Tokyo Rose
by Velkyn
Summary: The third Alexis Finch story. While in Tokyo, Alexis overhears the word 'seppuku' in connection to Goemon. What's going on? And who has stolen that strange flower known as the Tokyo Rose? Language, suggestive situations. :JigenxOC:
1. Disgraced

-This is a work of fiction based on characters created by Monkey Punch (Kazuhiko Kato). It is action/drama with a twist of lemon. Rated T for language and sexual situations. Lupin, Jigen, Goemon, Fujiko, and Zenigata are © Monkey Punch, and are used without permission. This work is written purely for entertainment value. Please don't sue me.-

-This is a sequel to The Importance of Catching Earnest, but will also stand alone. Special thanks to Phil, Kimiko, and Yuki-sensei for helping with the Japanese.-

* * *

Tokyo Rose  
by Elisabeth Henry

Alexis Finch picked a thread of saffron from the cuff of her sweater as she listened to the old man berate Goemon Ishikawa.

"It was the jewel of my collection. I trusted you to keep it safe. You have shamed me, and yourself."

Of course, she couldn't understand a word. Alexis knew only the most rudimentary Japanese - enough to say 'thank you', and 'I'm sorry', and to order sashimi and tea. She had no idea what the man was saying, but his tone and posture spoke volumes. Whatever had happened, he wasn't too pleased about it.

"I understand, Wakahisa-sama," Goemon said. His voice was soft and serious. From where Alexis was hiding in the early-morning shadows, she could see him on his knees. Goemon bowed humbly before the old man. "I offer my deepest apologies. I am prepared to accept the consequences of my failure, and pay with my own blood."

Alexis had never before noticed how pleasant Goemon's voice could be. When voices were distilled to merely tone and inflection, they were like music. Goemon's was particularly gentle and soothing. She smiled quietly to herself as the old man sighed heavily and turned his back to Goemon.

"Then return in four days." Alexis frowned. She recognised that word: _shi_. That meant 'four'. Or 'death'. She tilted her head to one side as the old man continued. "Your sacrifice will not bring back my treasure, but in committing seppuku, perhaps you will find redemption with your ancestors."

Alexis frowned again. There was another word she recognised: _seppuku_. Not a word she particularly wanted to hear.

Goemon bowed low again. "I understand, Wakahisa-sama. I will return in four days." He stood, bowed again, and backed out of the room. When he turned to leave, Alexis ducked deeper into the shadows. Goemon must have been distracted, because he passed by without even noticing her hiding place.

Something was very wrong; Alexis could feel it. She looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. There wasn't anything else she could do here for the moment; she might as well try to figure out what was going on. She wasn't all that familiar with the players in this game, but she'd be damned if she let anyone die without a good explanation.

Carefully, quietly, Alexis let herself out of the house and headed through the dawn-washed Tokyo streets to her hotel.


	2. Season Tickets

Yes; _shi_ definitely meant four. Alexis looked up from her computer and stared out of her hotel window, deep in thought. _Seppuku_ had been an easy one; there were several websites dedicated to the idea, form, and ritual. So, someone was planning to commit seppuku. Was it Goemon, or the old man? Alexis shook her head and reached for the phone.

It rang three times before a melodious voice came on the line:

"Hello?"

"Hullo, Fujiko. It's Alexis Finch."

"Alexis!" Fujiko's voice was a little tinny. The connection wasn't very good. "It's been a while. How are you?"

"Quite well, thanks," Alexis said. She picked up a cheap plastic pen from the table and twirled it between her fingers. "How's business?"

"Things are great," Fujiko said. "I'm just taking a little break before the next big score. But I doubt you called to talk about work."

"That's a fair cop." Alexis laughed. "Have you heard from Lupin lately?" she asked.

"As far as I know, he's still in Tokyo," Fujiko said. "Is there something that you need?"

Alexis ignored the question. "Oh, there's luck," she said. "Do you know where I might find him?"

"He'll probably be at the New National Theatre tonight. He has season tickets to the ballet. Box seats, of course." Fujiko sounded envious. "There's this ballerina he's had his eye on..."

Alexis grinned. She could practically hear Fujiko rolling her eyes.

"You know how he is," Fujiko finished.

"I have some idea," Alexis replied. She scribbled down the information on a hotel notepad. "All right, I'll take myself to the theatre tonight, then. Thanks, Fujiko."

"No problem," Fujiko said. "Keep in touch."

"You too."

Alexis replaced the receiver and brought up the National Theatre's website. Tonight's performance was _Carmen_. She looked at the clock on the bedside table. She had plenty of time to buy a nice dress and make her way to the theatre. With a little luck, she could convince the box office to tell her which seats were Lupin's.

Picking up her handbag and jacket, Alexis left the room.


	3. Nothing Like a Good Tragedy

Alexis held her long skirt carefully above her feet as she climbed the stairs to the third floor. A little misdirection, a little conniving, and she'd managed to learn that Lupin had indeed reserved box seats for the entire season. She didn't really understand Fujiko's envy; the little theatre boxes were great when you wanted privacy, but the view of the stage was always better from Dress Circle.

She clutched her small black purse tightly in her left hand and made her way to the front of the theatre. She stopped before a heavy red curtain which served as a door to separate the loge from the aisle. Alexis took a deep breath, crossed her fingers, and entered.

Lupin and Jigen were both leaning forward in their chairs, talking in low voices. Alexis smoothed a hand over the front of her blue silk dress and cleared her throat. Both men turned around. Jigen's mouth fell open in surprise, but Lupin merely smiled at her.

"Do you like the ballet, too?" he asked.

Alexis wrinkled her nose. "I prefer Broadway," she said. She pulled up the only empty chair in the box and sat down. "But I've seen the operatic version of _Carmen_, and I quite enjoyed it."

Jigen was still staring at her, following the contours of her figure with his eyes. Easy enough to do in a dress that clung the way this one did. Alexis smiled shyly at him. A sapphire-and-diamond necklace sparkled against her pale skin.

"Nothing like a good tragedy, is there?" Lupin said, grinning.

Alexis' smile vanished. "Actually, I'm not sure I can agree with you. Not tonight, anyway." She shook her head. Her short black hair brushed against her cheeks. "Fancy giving me a little help with something?"

Lupin shrugged. "Whatever I can do. As long as I don't have to leave the theatre, of course."

"Of course." Alexis gave him a wan smile. "Have you seen Goemon lately?"

Lupin looked at Jigen, who recovered himself enough to shrug. They both turned back to Alexis.

"No," Lupin said. "Why?"

Alexis fiddled with the clasp on her purse. "Are you familiar with the concept of _seppuku_?"

Lupin and Jigen both spoke at the same time. "What!?"

Alexis held up her hands, palms out. "Steady on," she said. "It might not be as bad as it sounds." She sighed. "I don't speak much Japanese, but I did hear the word, and I'm sure I heard something about death. Or the number four." She frowned. "What was he up to the last time you saw him?"

"He was looking to take a sentry job," Jigen said. "Why?"

Alexis' frown deepened. "That seems simple enough," she murmured, almost to herself.

Lupin peered at her. "Negotiations have been going on for days," he said. "Ichiro Wakahisa wanted to hire him to protect a flower called the Tokyo Rose."

Alexis looked up. "I didn't see a flower," she said dubiously.

"Wait," Lupin said, blinking. "You've been to Wakahisa's estate?"

"Er..." Alexis blushed faintly. "Yes?" she said. She grinned weakly.

Jigen narrowed his eyes at her. "What are you doing in Tokyo?" he asked.

Alexis stuck out her tongue for a brief moment before answering. "I'm still on the Russian job," she said. "Wakahisa has one of the Fabergé eggs." There was a squawk from the orchestra pit as the musicians started tuning their instruments. "I broke into the house at around two this morning. That's when I came across Goemon in the courtyard."

"Did he see you?" Lupin asked.

"That's the really odd thing," Alexis said. She looked confused. "Goemon's a better lookout than I am a thief. But he didn't move, speak, blink... Nothing." She looked helplessly at Lupin. "At first I thought he was just being generous; you know, a little bit of blind eye?"

Lupin shook his head. "I can't see that happening."

"Neither can I," Alexis said. "In fact, I can't imagine Goemon would allow anyone to sneak in: acquaintance, friend, or lover."

Jigen snorted softly. Alexis threw him a withering look.

"You know what I mean," she said.

Lupin was looking thoughtfully at nothing in particular. "You're right; he wouldn't. That would be signing his own death warrant." He tapped his chin. "But if that's the case, what happened to the Tokyo Rose?"

"Something's wrong," Alexis said, "and I don't like it."

"Neither do I," Lupin said, nodding in agreement. "Let's see if we can't get some answers." He looked at his watch. "Can you meet us tomorrow morning around nine?"

"Sure. Where?" Alexis pulled a pen and a scrap of paper from her clutch.

"I have a little place about forty minutes north of Tokyo," Lupin said. He took the pen and paper, and scribbled a few lines. "If you enter Oyama, you've gone too far." He grinned at Alexis as she slipped the directions into her purse.

Alexis smiled and tucked away her pen. "All right," she said, snapping her purse closed and standing up. "I'll see you in the morning, then." She looked at Jigen and opened her mouth, as if she had something more to say. But instead of speaking, she merely inclined her head and left the loge.

Lupin looked over at Jigen and raised one eyebrow. "You okay?" he said.

Jigen slouched in his chair. "Just a little surprised, is all," he mumbled. "She's the last person I expected to see in this friggin' town."

"Are things all right between you two?" Lupin asked, as the house lights dimmed.

"Yeah... I guess so," Jigen said. He shrugged. "You know what they say, though: out of sight, out of mind."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," Lupin said, smirking.

Jigen glared at him in the darkness of the theatre. "You've got an answer for everything, don't you?"

Lupin's laughter was lost among the opening notes of Bizet's _Prelude_.


	4. Mirus Concisus

"Stolen, you say?" Inspector Koichi Zenigata frowned and tapped his pen against the edge of his desk. "Well, it certainly sounds like something Lupin would do. Sure, I'll get over there right away." He hung up the phone and reached for his overcoat.

When he arrived at the Wakahisa estate, he was greeted by Ichiro Wakahisa himself. Zenigata pulled out a notebook as they walked towards the courtyard garden.

"Tell me about this plant, sir," Zenigata said. He flipped a page and prepared to take notes.

Wakahisa shook his head. "It is the rarest of flowers, Inspector," he said quietly. "I am most distressed by its disappearance." They arrived in the garden, and Wakahisa gestured to an empty hole in a massive stone planter. "It was here. The pride of my collection." He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

The silence gave Zenigata time to look around the courtyard. There was an incredible variety of plant life here. Wakahisa was certainly passionate about botany. The garden was a masterpiece: every possible shape, size, and colour was represented, all artistically arranged. It must have taken years of dedication.

Wakahisa opened his eyes and looked at Inspector Zenigata. "The _mirus concisus_ came into my possession six months ago," he said. "It is a perfect specimen. They typically fail in greenhouse conditions, but this was a particularly robust strain." He fingered the glossy yellow leaves of an exceptionally tall plant.

Zenigata wrote a few notes in a scrawl that would have made a doctor envious. "This would be the flower that people call the Tokyo Rose, is that right, sir?" he asked.

"Yes, although it's a misnomer at best," Wakahisa said, frowning slightly. "The _mirus concisus_ is an extremely rare flower that blooms only once every year, for approximately three hours." He moved to a long wooden table and picked up a plastic plant mister. "It is perhaps five inches in height. Its leaves are dark green with pale green veins and a slight blueing around the margin." Wakahisa bent and carefully sprayed a small, low-lying shrub. He straightened and turned to face the inspector. "The flower is currently closed; it is very delicate, shaped a little like a gardenia, and it is red in colour."

"Mm-hm, mm-hm." Zenigata nodded solemnly, scribbling the details in his notebook. He looked around the garden again. "And when did you notice it was missing?"

"This morning, when I came into the courtyard. I had hired a man to guard it, but he fell asleep." Wakahisa sighed deeply and set the plant mister back on the table. "Someone must have taken it during the night."

"And what is this man's name?" Zenigata asked. He held his pencil poised over his notepad.

"Goemon Ishikawa."

The pencil snapped in half.

"Are you all right, inspector?" Wakahisa asked, his voice filled with concern. "You look a little ... purple."

Zenigata gripped the broken pencil. He blinked slowly. Twice.

"Did you say 'Goemon Ishikawa'?" he said carefully.

Wakahisa nodded.

"Why, that's one of Lupin's partners! Oh, sir!" Zenigata was close to tears. "I'm so happy!" Wakahisa looked at the inspector as though he had just announced that he was a duck. "Thank you! Thank you!" Zenigata sniffled and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I'll take care of this right away for you, sir. _Right_ away. If you could just give me the address of this Ishikawa fellow?"

Wakahisa shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't have one," he said, edging away from the flailing inspector. "That is, he didn't have one to give me. A very old Buddhist monk recommended him. He intimated that Ishikawa was a wandering student of Bushido."

Zenigata's face fell. His shoulders drooped. "No address?" he said in a very small voice.

"None at all. I'm sorry, inspector." Wakahisa bowed slightly in apology.

Zenigata frowned deeply. With renewed determination, he stuffed his notebook and pencil into his pocket. "Don't worry, sir," he said, turning to Wakahisa. "I'll find your flower and have it back to you in no time." He bowed respectfully to the older man. "Have no fear. Lupin won't get away with this!" The inspector looked thoughtfully at the ceiling, then raised one finger. "It would be for the best if the press didn't get wind of this, though," he added. "If Lupin doesn't know we're on his trail, then he might relax his guard and be fooled into making a mistake."

Wakahisa looked curiously at the inspector, but merely nodded. "Of course, Inspector Zenigata," he said politely. "I will see to it that my people keep quiet about the incident." He bowed deeply. "Thank you so much, inspector," he continued. "I will be in your debt if you are able to retrieve my _mirus_ _concisus_. It is due to bloom Saturday at midnight, and to be unable to witness the event would be a great tragedy."

Zenigata saluted crisply. "We'll do everything in our power, sir," he said, and turned smartly towards the door. As he left the estate, he bubbled inside. At last, another chance to catch Lupin. And it had fallen into his lap like a cherry blossom!


	5. Exposition

The autumn air was crisp and clear, and the morning was bright. In an old Buddhist temple near a smoothly-flowing stream, Goemon knelt in a small garden, his sword on the ground before him. His eyes were closed. The grass was soft beneath his knees, and dew had soaked into his _keikogi_. He had been holding this position since dawn, meditating on his failure. His only company had been a small stone altar, and a few slender trees that grew here in the garden.

The monks had been understanding and kind, which was more than he deserved. They had permitted him to remain here for the next four days, and he hoped to purify himself, to prepare for the ritual to come. They had even offered him a small room in the temple to use as his own, until the time came for him to spill his own blood. When he thought about their goodness and generosity, he nearly wept.

Mid-morning, there was the sound of footsteps. Running. There was a murmur of voices from inside the temple. The door to the garden slid open with a bang, and a girl's voice interrupted his meditation.

"Ishikawa-san!"

Goemon slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the young girl who stood before him. Something like a smile touched his lips, then faded. She had been crying; that much was obvious. Her skirt and blouse were wrinkled, as though she'd slept in them. She held out her hands in supplication, and Goemon flinched.

"You do not need to do this, Ishikawa-san," she said. Her eyes pleaded with him as she spoke in rapid Japanese. "I know this wasn't your fault!"

Goemon bowed his head and fixed his gaze on the ground in front of him. "I have disgraced myself," he said. His voice was soft, barely audible. "It is my duty."

The girl shook her head vehemently, her long braids flying. "I can convince father to change his mind!" she cried. "_Kudasaimase_, Goemon; please, do not do this thing."

Goemon drew a sharp breath when she spoke his name, but otherwise betrayed nothing of the pain that he felt.

"I am sorry, Emi-chan," he murmured. "Please; you must leave this place of death."

The girl burst into tears and turned away. One of the monks took her gently by the shoulders and led her out of the garden, back into the darkness of the temple. Once again, Goemon was alone.

Or so he thought.

"She's right, you know," said a voice with a distinctive British accent. "It wasn't your fault."

Goemon looked up sharply. His face wore a rare expression: surprise. Alexis stepped out from behind a tree and tilted her head to one side, studying him.

"Besides," she added, "Lupin and Jigen will never forgive you if you do this."

"You got that right," Jigen said. He, too, emerged from behind a tree, then slouched against it and pulled a cigarette from his pocket.

"You _are_ doing what we think you're doing, right?" The voice seemed to come from the sky. Goemon looked up, startled. Lupin was sitting on a high branch, looking curiously at the samurai.

Goemon stared at all three of them for a moment. His eyes darkened, and when he spoke, there was an undercurrent of anger in his voice.

"You defile the ritual of purification," he said.

Lupin jumped out of the tree and landed in a crouch before Goemon. "I don't think you need purification," he said, standing up and straightening his tie.

Goemon frowned. "I cannot go to my ancestors without performing the proper rituals," he said stubbornly.

Jigen lit his cigarette and snapped his lighter closed. "You're not going to your ancestors, pal."

Alexis smiled gently at Goemon. "This is not an option, Goemon," she said. "It's not your fault. We can prove it, and we can help you make things right."

Goemon glared up at her. "What do you know of it, _gaijin_?" he snapped.

"Ouch," Alexis said, taking a step back. "No need to get tetchy." She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against a tree trunk. "I heard everything yesterday morning, even if I didn't actually understand most of it." She smiled wryly. "I was hanging around in those house-beams for an hour before Wakahisa showed up."

Goemon blinked, clearly taken aback. "What business did you have there?" he asked.

Alexis waved a hand dismissively. "Just the Fabergé egg," she said.

"You would steal the egg from Wakahisa-sama?" Goemon said. His hands tightened into fists. "Am I not shamed enough already?"

"He's not your _daimyo_, Goemon," Alexis snapped. "This isn't the Edo period, and you needn't commit seppuku."

Goemon looked away. "He asked me to protect an item of great value, and I failed him."

Jigen rolled his eyes. "It's like talking to a friggin' brick wall," he mumbled, drawing his hat down over his face.

"You were hired to protect the Tokyo Rose, weren't you?" Lupin said. Goemon nodded curtly. "What time did you start your watch?"

"Wait, wait," Alexis interrupted. "What exactly _is _this 'Tokyo Rose' you keep referring to? Some sort of pot-plant?"

The three men stared at her.

"You haven't heard of it?" Lupin asked.

Alexis placed her hands on her hips. "Obviously not," she said drily. "Would you care to enlighten me?"

"It's an ugly little flower that opens once a year," Jigen said, peeking at Alexis from under his hat. "Usually around the end of September."

"The blooming always starts at midnight," Lupin added. "There's a pretty distinct pattern of growth; scientists have determined exactly how to tell when the flower is going to blossom." He turned to Goemon. "So, what time _did _you start watching the Rose?"

"As Wakahisa-sama was going to bed." The fury drained from Goemon's voice, and was replaced with despair. "Perhaps eleven o'clock."

"And what time did I arrive?" Alexis said mildly.

Goemon glanced up at her and frowned. "How should I know the answer to that?"

Alexis leaned down so she could look into Goemon's eyes. "You're not stupid, Goemon," she said softly. "A cat couldn't sneak past you without being noticed -- and all four of us know it."

Goemon blushed faintly and looked away again. "I am ashamed to admit it, but..." His next words were quiet, heavy with the pain of his failure: "I fell asleep."

Lupin shook his head as Alexis straightened and stepped back. "I don't believe it." Lupin slid his hands into his pockets. "I wasn't there last night, but you never sleep heavily enough to miss an intruder when you travel with us."

"Yeah," Jigen said, finishing his cigarette. He jerked a finger at Alexis. "Especially not one as clumsy as this broad, here."

Alexis blinked at Jigen. "Oi!"

"Did you have anything to eat or drink last night?" Lupin asked, sitting down on a smooth stone bench next to the altar.

Goemon thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Some tea," he said at last.

Jigen snapped his fingers. "That could explain it."

"Did it occur to you that you may have been drugged?" Alexis asked. She had gone back to leaning against a tree.

Goemon stared at her. "What?"

"I guess not," Lupin said needlessly. "Who brought you the tea?"

"Wakahisa-sama's son, Katsu. His sister was performing the tea ceremony." Goemon blushed again, more deeply. "Since I could not attend, Katsu brought me a cup. It was a kind gesture." His eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting?"

Jigen lifted the brim of his hat. "Do you trust the kid?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

Goemon's expression went blank. "I was not aware that the subject was even up for discussion," he said coolly.

"What do you remember after you had your tea?" Lupin asked, leaning forward.

"I..." Goemon furrowed his brow in thought. "I remember hearing the clock chime eleven. Then..." He shook his head. "Nothing."

Alexis pointed towards the door. "Was that the sister?" Goemon nodded. "She rather fancies you, doesn't she?"

Goemon's cheeks reddened. "That has nothing to do with --"

"...even though you're the descendant of an executed criminal," Alexis added quietly.

Goemon frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?" he demanded.

Alexis shrugged eloquently. "Wakahisa strikes me as something of a traditionalist. Isn't ancestry of some importance in Japanese culture?"

"This was discussed when the monks recommended me to Wakahisa-sama," Goemon said. "They offered him their assurances. I have shamed myself in their eyes, as well." He bowed his head.

"What about the kid?" Jigen asked.

Goemon looked up. "What about him?"

"He might feel differently than his father," Alexis said.

"And his sister does seem to like you," Lupin added, glancing towards the door.

Goemon shook his head. "He has never been anything but civil to me. In any case, I rarely saw him. He is studying Business at the University of Tokyo."

A knowing look passed between Alexis, Jigen, and Lupin.

"I think that's our cue," Lupin said, standing up from the bench. "Don't go too far, okay, Goemon?"

"I cannot," Goemon said darkly. "I have a responsibility."

Jigen glanced over his shoulder as he opened the gate leading to the front lawn. "Yeah, well, don't get too comfortable with that 'responsibility' just yet, buddy," he said, following Lupin and Alexis out of the garden.

Goemon watched them leave through half-closed eyes. When he heard the gate latch, he bowed his head again and returned to his meditations.


	6. A Lupin Sighting

"Damnit, I know he's in Tokyo _somewhere_," Zenigata muttered to himself. He was flipping through his notes from the previous evening. "Poor Wakahisa, falling for such an obvious trick. If only he'd called the ICPO from the very beginning." He shook his head and squinted at his own handwriting. The doodle he'd made of the Tokyo Rose looked more like a squashed spider.

One of Zenigata's men stuck his head in the door. "Inspector, we've had a Lupin sighting."

Zenigata jumped up from his chair, knocking it to the floor. "Well, what are we waiting for? Where was he?"

"Er..." The officer looked uncomfortable. "His yellow Roadster was seen driving out of Tokyo, towards Oyama, but the men.. um.. lost him."

Zenigata narrowed his eyes. "Oyama, is it?" he said. It was as though the last two words of the officer's report had gone in one ear and out the other. "Right! Let's be on our way!" He grabbed his hat from the stand near the door and pushed the officer out of the way. "Come on, come on," Zenigata said, stamping his feet urgently. "He's getting away!"

The officer looked blank for a moment. "Uh, sir? We lost sight of him."

"That doesn't matter," Zenigata said impatiently. "We know which direction he was headed in; let's go get him!"

The officer sighed. "Yes, sir," he said, following Zenigata to the car. "Whatever you say, sir." He held one hand to his forehead. Sometimes Inspector Zenigata's zeal was positively brain-shattering.

"I'll get you this time, Lupin," Zenigata muttered to himself as they drove away. "You'll regret coming back to Japan. Oh, yes; you will."


	7. The Gang's All Here

Back at the 'little place' near Tokyo, Jigen and Lupin lounged in an upstairs sitting room, discussing their plans. Alexis stood at the window and looked out over the property. 'Little place', indeed, she thought wryly. Even her father, wealthy land-owner that he was, would have been envious.

Alexis turned her back to the window and leaned against the sill. Jigen and Lupin were debating their next move.

"We need more details about the kid," Jigen was saying. A half-smoked cigarette dangled from his lips. "Without that, this ain't goin' nowhere."

Alexis looked thoughtful. "Where's Fujiko these days?" she asked.

Jigen lowered his hat over his eyes. "I don't wanna know," he muttered.

"Uh... Osaka."

Alexis and Jigen both stared at Lupin.

"And you know this _why_, exactly?" Jigen said.

Lupin shifted uncomfortably on the ugly green sofa.

"No, no," Alexis said, moving towards them. "This is brilliant." She turned to Lupin. "What if you could get Fujiko to come out here and chat him up? Maybe we could get some information out of him." Alexis smiled. "Fujiko can charm the scales off a snake. She could learn what he thinks of Goemon, what his home life is like..."

"...where he took the friggin' flower..."

Alexis glanced at Jigen. "Let's not get ambitious," she said.

Jigen watched her from beneath his hat as Lupin nodded slowly. "That would be great," Lupin said. He placed his hands behind his head and lay down on the sofa. "But how can we guarantee that she bumps into him?"

"How about tickets to a show?" Alexis suggested.

Jigen leaned forward. "That might work," he said, butting his cigarette in an overflowing ashtray. "They did that all the time back in the States. Radio stations would give out free tickets to a rock concert or baseball game to the first five callers." He shrugged and sat back in his chair. "We could do the same thing."

"Find an event happening in the city tonight," said Alexis, warming to the subject. "Buy a couple of tickets, give one of them to Fujiko, then call the boy to let him know he's 'won' the other."

Lupin grinned up at her. "Nice idea. What event should we choose?"

"Well, we do have tickets to tonight's performance of _Madame Butterfly_," Jigen said.

Lupin hesitated. "Do we have to?" he asked, looking glum.

"That depends," Alexis said drily. "Do you want Goemon's sword at your side, or buried six feet underground, with him?"

Lupin sighed and reached for the phone. He dialled Fujiko's number slowly, as though hoping that Alexis and Jigen would offer an alternative. They didn't; instead, they watched him carefully as he reluctantly brought the receiver to his ear. Fujiko picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hello, my little Fujicakes."

"Why, Lupin," Fujiko said. "How nice to hear from you." She didn't miss a beat. "What do you want?"

"Hey now," Lupin said, chuckling weakly. "Is that any way to talk to your one true love?"

Fujiko snorted. "Out with it, Lupin. You only call me when you want something."

"Heh, heh." Lupin cleared his throat. "Well, now that you mention it, there is a small favour you might do for me..."

"I knew it," Fujiko said. "All right; what is it?"

"We need you to come to Tokyo and do a little schmoozing with a university student named Katsu Wakahisa." Lupin crossed his fingers. "What do you say?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"Fujiko?"

"Katsu Wakahisa, of the Tokyo Wakahisas?" Fujiko said slowly. "You must be joking."

"Not this time," Lupin said. "It's serious."

"It's always serious." Fujiko sounded faintly amused. "What's in it for me?" she asked.

"A good time?" Lupin suggested. "You've always wanted to see the ballet, haven't you?"

"Okay," Fujiko said. "Now I _know _you're joking."

Lupin sighed heavily. "Unfortunately not," he grumbled.

"You still haven't answered my question," Fujiko said patiently. "What's in it for me? And don't tell me that the ballet is worth it, because it's not."

"Uh..." Lupin looked over his shoulder at Jigen and Alexis, who had moved to the window. "We'll help you with your next big project?" he said, wincing.

"And we split the take eighty-twenty," Fujiko said.

"Gaaah!"

"That's the deal, Lupin. Take it or leave it."

Lupin whimpered. "How about sixty-forty?" he said.

"Guess your problem isn't that serious," Fujiko said. "Nice chatting with you, Lupin."

"Wait, wait!" Lupin said. He glanced at Jigen and Alexis again. Their heads were together, and they were discussing something in low voices. "Seventy-thirty?"

"I'm hanging up now."

"No, no! Aw..." Lupin swallowed nervously. "Oh, okay. Eighty-twenty."

"You've got yourself a date, sweetie," Fujiko said with glee. "When and where?"

"Tonight, at the house outside Tokyo," Lupin said. "Can you make it for seven o'clock? We'll give you the details then."

"I'll be there," Fujiko said. "Bye!"

Lupin hung up the phone and sighed again. When he turned around, Jigen was glaring at him.

"You didn't do what I think you did... did you?" he said, frowning.

"Uh..."

Alexis hid a smile behind her hand.

Jigen growled and threw his hands in the air. "Man, Lupin. You friggin' burn me, you know that?"

"Hey," Lupin said, "it's for Goemon." He grinned hopefully. Jigen just glowered at him.

"I feel for you, Jigen," Alexis said, stifling a laugh, "but we've got to get things ready. It's almost one o'clock."

Jigen grumbled wordlessly and grabbed a phone book. He held it out to Alexis.

"Pick a radio station," he said.

"Very funny." Alexis snatched the book and handed it to Lupin. "You know I can't read a word of Japanese."

Jigen grinned wickedly.

"Then let's go with InterFM," Lupin said, dropping the phone book on the floor. It landed with a loud 'bang'. He turned to Alexis. "They're a multilingual station, so you have an excuse to speak poor Japanese."

Alexis stared at him. "I... what?"

"Japanese," Lupin said, smiling mischievously. "Someone has to give Katsu his ticket when he shows up at the station, right?"

Jigen snickered. "I'll call and tell him he's won, and Lupin will distract the girl at InterFM's front desk," he said, lighting a fresh cigarette. "Three minus two equals..."

"You cannot be serious." Alexis looked as though she were about to faint. "I don't speak Japanese!"

Lupin looked at Jigen, who made an expansive gesture with his hand. "I guess I get to teach you, then," Lupin said, looking at Alexis. "The phrases you're going to learn are very simple. Don't worry about it." He blinked at her. She was even more pale than usual. "Uh... please don't pass out on me?"

Alexis sat down carefully and gripped the arm of her chair.

"All you have to learn to say is 'Here is your ticket', 'You're welcome', and 'Congratulations'." Lupin reached out to steady her. "It's not hard. I promise." He smiled brightly. "So, let's get to it."


	8. Close Call

The lesson ended around two o'clock. Alexis was exhausted, but Lupin was confident that she could pull it off. Alexis herself wasn't so sure. She mumbled the phrases to herself as she and Lupin headed into Tokyo.

"You'll do just fine," Lupin kept repeating. They arrived at the radio station at quarter to three, and Lupin took a few minutes to put the finishing touches on his disguise. He'd filled his electrician's tool belt with a variety of obscure gadgets, and the cap he'd chosen hid his eyes remarkably well.

"Give me five minutes," he instructed Alexis, heading for the lift. "Then come up. I'll get the girl away from the front desk so you can take her place." He looked at his watch. It read two fifty-one. "Katsu will be here at three." In response to Alexis' worried look, he smiled and patted her on the shoulder. "No problem," he said. "In and out, like a duck mating." He winked at her as the elevator doors closed behind him.

Alexis stood in the lobby, staring at her watch as the endless seconds ticked by. At exactly two fifty-six she called the lift and headed up to the fifth floor. The doors opened to reveal a hallway that led to the radio station's reception area. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and started down the hall.

She stopped when she heard voices. Pressing her back to the wall, she peeked around the doorway. Lupin was still chatting up the receptionist. Alexis could hear their voices, but her grasp of Japanese didn't offer her much in terms of understanding.

"Well, _someone_ called in some faulty connections," Lupin said, smiling down at the flustered girl. "Are you _sure _you don't know anything about it?"

The girl shook her head and stared helplessly at the work order.

"I don't know what to tell you, sir," she said, handing the sheet back to Lupin. "I haven't heard anything about it."

"But it's all right here," Lupin said, pointing to the forged paper. He'd done it himself that afternoon, and it was perfect in every detail. He was quite pleased with it.

"N- n- no," the girl said slowly. "We don't need any work done."

"Really? I mean, it's no trouble for me," Lupin said, folding the work order and stuffing it into his pocket, "but if you're wrong, your boss is going to have to wait another two weeks until we can get out here again. Why don't you just show me the junction boxes and I'll get out of your hair?"

The girl looked worriedly around the otherwise-empty reception area. "Well... I don't know," she said. She bit down on one manicured nail.

Out in the hallway, Alexis looked at her watch. Two more minutes until their mark arrived. There was a soft ringing sound from the lift, and the numbers above the elevator doors started to descend. Fifth floor. Third floor. Second floor. Ground. Alexis watched the floor indicator in horror.

At the reception desk, Lupin leaned over the counter and winked at the flustered secretary. "You're a sweet girl," he said, turning on the charm, "and I don't want you to get into trouble with your boss. You can leave the desk just for a minute, right?" He smiled winningly. "This won't take long, I promise."

The girl blushed deeply. "All right, sir," she said, finally giving in. "Please follow me." She came out from behind the desk and led Lupin deeper into the station, past booths and seating areas, until they came to the electrical closet. "I think it's in here, sir," she said.

Alexis heard their footsteps recede into the building, fading away just as the lift chimed. The doors started to open, and she dashed into the reception area, seating herself behind the desk and trying desperately to catch her breath. Seconds later, a young man entered. He smiled at her, but it was awkward, confused. It was obvious that he had not expected to find a foreigner at the reception desk.

The young man bowed slightly from the waist. "_Konnichi-wa_," he said. Alexis smiled. That was a word she knew. She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping that the rest of the conversation would go as well.

"_Watashi wa Wakahisa Katsu_," the young man said. "_Ballet no ticket wo marai ni kimashita_."

So, this was Katsu Wakahisa. He wore a brown sport coat, crisply-pressed trousers, and newly-shined shoes. His glasses were a little big for his face, and his hair needed a trim, but he looked pleasant enough. Alexis stood up from her chair and bowed politely to him. "_Konnichi-wa, Wakahisa-san_," she said, the words flowing off her tongue like molasses. "_Hai; kochira ga ticket desu_." Alexis winced at her own pronunciation before reaching for the thin envelope that Lupin had prepared an hour earlier. She handed it to Katsu with a strained smile. "_Omedetou gozaimasu_."

"_Arigatou gozaimasu_," Katsu said, bowing again.

"_Dou itashimashite_," Alexis said, inclining her head. "_Tanoshinde kite kudasai_."

Katsu smiled, bowed once more, and left the reception area. If she hadn't heard Lupin's voice from the depths of the studio, Alexis would have breathed a sigh of relief. But it was too soon for that.

Quickly, she made her way around the desk and peeked into the hallway. The lift doors were just closing behind Katsu. Alexis stepped into the hall and pressed her back against the wall beside the radio station door. Lupin's voice grew louder.

"I don't know what to tell you," he said. "But it's a good thing we checked! If there had been a problem, you'd have had to wait a long time for another appointment."

The receptionist bowed graciously to him. "I understand," she said, smiling gratefully at him. "Thank you so much."

"No trouble at all," Lupin said cheerfully. He blew her a kiss, and she blushed deeply. "Thanks for your patience!" He left the station and bumped into Alexis in the hallway.

"How did it go?" he asked her in a low voice as they headed for the stairs.

"Thanks to your crash course in Japanese? I survived." Alexis smiled wryly. "But I felt like a complete pillock. Please don't make me do that again. My pronunciation is embarrassing at best."

Lupin laughed and ripped off his hat and mask, tossing them into a corner of the stairwell. He and Alexis emerged into the empty lobby.

"I'm sure you did just fine," Lupin said, patting Alexis on the shoulder. They left the building as Jigen drove up in the Roadster. "Let's get ready for Fujiko, shall we?"

Jigen sneered and shifted down as Lupin and Alexis jumped into the car. "Great," he said, peeling out of the lot. His voice was heavy with sarcasm. "The best part of my day is just about to start."


	9. Madame Butterfly

The stage was set, in more ways than one.

Fujiko smiled as the doorman helped her out of the car. She tossed her hair, letting it brush across her bare shoulders. It might have been autumn, but that wasn't going to stop her from wearing a strapless evening gown. She had a vested interest in showing off her assets this evening. _All _her assets.

She entered the theatre, handed her ticket to the usher for him to check, then climbed the stairs to the third floor. Her red sequined dress sparkled under the warm light shed by a dozen crystal chandeliers. She nodded politely to the third floor usher, who pointed the way to the box seats.

Katsu was already there. Crammed into a dark suit and tie, he looked almost like a young boy playing dress-up. Fujiko slipped in through the curtained doorway and smiled winningly at him.

"Good evening," she said quietly, taking her seat. She allowed her white fur wrap to slip off her shoulders onto the floor between them.

Katsu gaped at her. Recovering himself, he reached for her wrap and handed it to her.

"Good evening," he replied, blushing deeply.

"Why, thank you," Fujiko said forcing a blush into her own cheeks. She lowered her eyes modestly and tucked her ticket stub into her clutch purse. "Did you win a ticket to see the ballet, too?" she asked him.

Katsu nodded, and smiled. "I did, yes."

Fujiko dimpled at him. "I'm so pleased to have company," she said quietly, as the house lights were turned low. "I hope you enjoy it as much as I do."

Throughout the first act, Fujiko watched Katsu out of the corner of her eye. Every so often, he would turn to look at her, then look back at the stage. It seemed as though he was enjoying her presence even more than the ballet. Fujiko smiled inwardly. All men had one weakness, and she was it.

At the first intermission, Fujiko and Katsu both rose from their seats. Fujiko left her wrap on her chair and murmured a quiet 'thank you' when Katsu held the curtain open for her to pass through. They headed towards the stairs side by side, not quite a couple and not quite strangers. Occasionally a shy look would pass between them, and Fujiko did her best to play the demure young lady.

As they reached the stairs, she tripped. On purpose. With a small cry, she reached out to grab the banister. Katsu caught her instead.

"Oh, thank you!" Fujiko said, clinging tightly to him. Katsu blushed deeply. Fujiko seemed to suddenly notice how close they were, and immediately let go. She stepped back slightly and smiled. "You're such a gentleman," she said, as they stood at the top of the stairs, waiting for her to catch her breath.

Katsu bowed slightly. "It is my pleasure," he said. Fujiko found herself actually enjoying the sound of his voice.

"My name is Fujiko Mine," she said, offering him her most brilliant smile.

"I am Katsu Wakahisa," Katsu said. He paused for a moment, as if unsure of something. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, "Do you need an escort to the lobby?"

Fujiko beamed. "Oh, you're so kind," she said, gazing up at him. "Thank you." She took his arm and together they began their descent. "It's been such a long time since I've been to Tokyo. I was so happy to win a ticket to the ballet!"

Katsu smiled down at her. "You're fond of the theatre, then?" he said politely.

"Oh, yes," Fujiko said. "I so rarely get to attend, but when I do, it's always a special event." They arrived in the mezzanine lobby. It was extremely crowded, and the line at the bar was very long. Squeezing through the crowd of people, Fujiko brushed her breasts against Katsu's chest. "Oh!" she said, blushing prettily. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

For a moment, Katsu was unable to speak past his embarrassment. Finally, he shook his head.

"No, no," he said awkwardly. "No trouble at all." He led the compliant Fujiko to an empty spot against the wall. "Perhaps I could get us something to drink," Katsu said with a crooked smile. "It would save you having to press through the crowd."

Fujiko clapped her hands. "Oh, aren't you sweet!" she cooed. "That's very kind. I'll have a glass of white wine, please."

Katsu inclined his head to her and set off for the bar. As he wove his way through the crowd, Fujiko watched him as a cat watches a fledgling bird. She wracked her brain to think of a way to bring up the subject of either his sister, his father's famous flower, or Goemon. By the time Katsu had returned with two glasses of wine, Fujiko still didn't have a clue how to approach things. She figured that a little personal history would be the next best thing.

As Katsu handed her a glass half-filled with wine, Fujiko reached into her purse.

"No, please," he insisted, shaking his head and pressing the glass on her. "I won't hear of it."

Ah, now she had him. "I can't ask you to buy my drink," she protested, hoping that he'd decline a second time.

He did. "It is my pleasure," Katsu said, smiling broadly at her. He lifted his glass in a toast. "_Kanpai_," he said.

Fujiko touched her glass to his. "_Kanpai_," she replied, and they both sipped at their wine. Fujiko fiddled with the stem of her glass for a moment, then nodded at Katsu's tie pin.

"Oh, do you attend the University?" she said, smiling sweetly. "My sister was there for a business degree." She took another sip of her drink. "Or perhaps it was economics," she murmured.

Katsu nodded to her. "Yes," he said. "Business is my area of study, as well."

"Oh, really?" Fujiko gushed. "I'm terribly impressed with people who can manage that sort of thing. I have absolutely no head for business." She giggled vapidly. "Isn't your father Ichiro Wakahisa? I suppose you'd need a strong background in business in order to work at his company after you graduate."

Katsu nodded again. "Exactly right," he said. He finished his wine and set the glass on a low table. A dark-haired waiter, who bore a passing resemblance to a monkey, glided through the crowd and whisked it away.

Fujiko took another sip of wine. "It must be difficult, being the son of such a well-known man. I don't imagine you get much privacy."

Katsu seemed to relax a little more. "It is very trying," he said quietly, as though taking Fujiko into his confidence. "The worst of it is having guards around all the time." He shook his head.

"Oh, I wouldn't like that at all," Fujiko said comfortingly. She tentatively brushed her fingertips against his hand. "You'd have no freedom at all. How very sad." She smiled tenderly at him, and her voice was soothing.

"Yes," Katsu said, his eyes darkening. "And father hires the most inappropriate men to guard even his most precious..." He seemed to realise where he was, and to whom he was speaking. He blushed. "I'm sorry," he said humbly. "I do not mean to bother you with my concerns."

Fujiko was about to reply when the call came for the second act. Instead of speaking to his complaint, she set her glass aside and smiled up at him. "I suppose we had better go," she said.

Katsu nodded and offered her his arm. She took it, following him up the stairs and back to their seats.

The second act continued much as the first. Katsu took every opportunity to watch Fujiko, while Fujiko watched the ballet. At the end of the second act, the house lights came up for a ten-minute intermission. Katsu turned to her.

"Can I get you anything from the lobby?" he asked.

"Oh, no, thank you," Fujiko said, demurely touching one hand to the base of her slender throat. "I can already feel the wine going to my head." She giggled softly and faked a polite hiccup.

Katsu blushed slightly as his eyes followed the movement of her hand. He found himself gazing at her ample cleavage. "Then you should stay seated," he said, tearing his attention away from her breasts and forcing it back to her face. "You wouldn't want to get dizzy and fall."

Fujiko smiled and leaned a little closer to him. "You've been so kind, Wakahisa-san," she said shyly. The juxtaposition of modesty and sensuality was Fujiko's specialty, and she was working her magic on the unsuspecting Katsu. A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead. "I'm so sorry that you and your father don't see eye-to-eye on his bodyguards. Especially if they guard your body, as well," Fujiko added, with just a hint of a blush.

Katsu looked away in embarrassment, but it didn't take long for him to lock eyes with Fujiko once again. "It's not that," Katsu said, smiling weakly. "His bodyguards are well and good. But he hired a man named Ishikawa to guard a most precious treasure."

Fujiko's eyes sparkled at that final word. Still, she stuck to the script Lupin had suggested. "Ishikawa?" she asked, her voice innocent. "Wasn't he a thief and an assassin?"

"Yes, that's exactly right!" Katsu said. He was obviously pleased. "You know of him?"

"I've read about him," Fujiko said casually, "and seen Kabuki plays about his life. He sounds like a horrible man." She watched Katsu carefully as his face became more animated.

"We are in agreement, then," he said, smiling brightly. "It's unfortunate that my father allowed our priest to blind him to this man's ancestry," Katsu finished. His smile disappeared, to be replaced with a dark frown.

Fujiko reached out and touched Katsu's arm with one delicate hand. "I'm so sorry," she said kindly. "It must be very hard, seeing members of your family make poor decisions, especially when you know what's in their best interests."

Katsu sighed and nodded. He placed a hand over Fujiko's, and she cheered inwardly at her success. "Thank you, Mine-san," he said, as the lights dimmed and the curtain rose for the third act. "It's so good to meet someone who understands."

When the ballet had come to its tragic end, Katsu stood up and held Fujiko's wrap for her. She allowed him to place it across her shoulders. They talked about the third act as they made their way downstairs.

"Wasn't it beautiful the way Butterfly found freedom from dishonour through her own death?" Fujiko said, sighing wistfully.

Katsu nodded as he guided Fujiko down the last flight of stairs. "Indeed," he said. "As it should have been. But I think that Pinkerton should have shared her fate. After all, he dishonoured her as well." He glowered. "_Gaijin_," he said, his voice touched with venom. "They're all alike. They corrupt all that is good in our country. They taint everything they touch."

Fujiko raised one eyebrow slightly, but otherwise showed no trace of surprise at his invective. They stepped out into the cool night air, and she turned to Katsu, giving him the full force of her smile.

"Thank you so much for your company this evening, Wakahisa-san," she said, inclining her head to him. "I wouldn't have enjoyed myself nearly as much if I'd been alone in that theatre box."

Katsu blushed faintly and bowed in return. "You honour me, Mine-san," he said.

"Take good care of yourself," Fujiko said, giving a little wave as she turned away from him. "Perhaps we'll run into each other again sometime!" She shot Katsu one final smile as she stepped into a taxi that waited at the curb.

He stood watching the car drive away, one hand raised in farewell, until it had disappeared from sight. Then he slid his hands into his pockets and headed down the street.


	10. Follow the Leader

Alexis and Jigen sat in a small bar across from the New National Theatre, quietly drinking, each lost in thought. Occasionally one of them would glance at the other, and then quickly look away. The tension between them bordered on unbearable. They were both relieved when Jigen looked at his watch and said, "It's time."

They stood. Alexis paid the bill and the two of them stepped out onto the sidewalk. Jigen hunched his shoulders, cupping his hands around his lighter, protecting the flame from the wind. His cigarette caught, and he looked up in time to see Fujiko and Katsu emerging from the theatre.

"There they are," he said, nodding.

Alexis glanced across the street casually. "I see them."

"Okay, let's tail the kid. We'll alternate, like we discussed." Jigen inhaled deeply and blew cigarette smoke into the night air. The wind whipped it away. "I'll start." He looked both ways, crossed the street, and started following Katsu.

A few minutes later, Alexis also crossed. She held a map of Tokyo in her hand and alternated between looking at it, and looking at the street signs.

Katsu walked a distance of two blocks before turning. Jigen continued straight ahead. It was Alexis' turn as the tail. She followed Katsu's trail, still pretending to read her map. A block later, Jigen appeared and stepped into place behind her.

This went on for several blocks, one of them following, the other moving along and then doubling back to catch up. Alexis alternately checked her map, dug out a cigarette, and plucked a phrase book from her satchel. The streets were so full of people, Katsu didn't seem to notice them. It wasn't until twenty minutes into their tail that the crowds began to thin. They had to be more careful, now.

They didn't have to follow him much longer. Alexis was walking on the opposite side of the street when Katsu stopped outside a mid-sized building. Alexis couldn't read the sign -- Lupin hadn't taught her anything about kanji or hiragana -- and she carried on down the street, pulling a compact from her purse. She opened it as she walked, using the mirror to check Katsu's actions. He looked around warily, opened the door to the building, and entered. Quickly, Alexis snapped her compact closed and reversed course. Jigen met her at the door.

"Self-storage," he muttered around what must have been his fifth cigarette. "These places are friggin' expensive. The kid must have some serious cash to spend." Jigen pointed a finger at Alexis. "You stay here. Find some shadows, and don't let him see you when he comes out."

Alexis frowned. "What are you --"

"Don't ask, don't tell," Jigen said, dropping his cigarette and grinding it into the pavement. "I'll be right back." He touched the brim of his hat to her and disappeared into the building.

Alexis grumbled to herself and crossed the street. She found a darkened doorway and settled into it, the shadows wrapping themselves around her like a lover. It was just like Jigen to make her wait while he went off and did things on his own. The prat. Alexis checked the watch Lupin had given her before the ballet. It didn't tell time, but it did offer some other interesting features. Alexis pressed a button on the side of the watch and spoke softly into it.

"He's at a self-storage place," she murmured, knowing that Lupin would be picking up the signal. "Jigen's gone in."

There was some static as Lupin replied. The tall Tokyo buildings seemed to affect even his remarkable gadgets.

"Keep on him," came the reply. The watch-radio crackled. "We'll come back to the storage unit tomorrow and check it out."

"You got it," Alexis said quietly, and turned off the radio. She folded her arms across her chest and waited.

Katsu was the first to emerge from the building. He looked left and right, then headed back the way he had come. Alexis waited for him to turn the corner, then unfolded herself from the shadows and followed. The boy had reached the traffic light up the block and was hailing a taxi. Alexis watched him from a respectable distance as he entered the car.

"That's it for the night," Jigen said, coming up behind her. Alexis nearly jumped out of her skin. "If he's got it stashed anywhere, it'll be in that storage locker." He pulled a wrinkled cigarette from his jacket and lit it.

He hadn't been speaking to her. From Jigen's wrist came the familiar crackling of static, and Lupin's voice floated up into the air.

"Can you two look into that locker tomorrow?" he asked. It sounded as though there was laughter and talking in the background. "The kid is third year business. He has a class at ten."

Jigen nodded, though Lupin couldn't see it. "Sure," he said, speaking into his wrist radio. "We can do that. Where do you want us to meet you?"

"I have to get his prints from the wine glass, and then I want to touch base with Goemon." Lupin's voice was growing faint. Reception here was poor. "Let's meet at the temple around noon."

"You got it," Jigen said, and turned off his radio-watch.

"Oh, I _hope _we've got it," Alexis breathed. She turned to stare up the street where Katsu had caught his ride.

Jigen tilted his head back and looked at Alexis from under his hat. He took a long drag from his cigarette before nodding in agreement.

"Me too."


	11. Beautiful Painting, Ugly Frame

At nine o'clock the next morning, Alexis and Jigen were standing outside the storage company. They smiled and nodded at Katsu as he passed them on his way out of the building. He inclined his head politely in return, then waved down a taxi and hopped in. As the cab drove away, Alexis made a face.

"That was a little too close," she said grimly.

Jigen shrugged. "He didn't recognise us. That's the important thing." He pulled a set of lock picks from his pocket as they moved down a long, echoing hall towards the back of the building. "His locker is back here."

Alexis frowned. "How do you know?" she asked, looking behind them. There was nowhere in the hallway to hide, no way Jigen could have followed Katsu in such close quarters without being spotted.

"They keep records in the office," Jigen said with a smirk. He lifted the padlock on the door of Katsu's storage unit and examined it. "Cheap imports," he muttered to himself, pulling out a stainless-steel pick and a small tension wrench. In a matter of minutes, the lock was off, and they stepped into the closet-sized room.

The storage locker was nearly bare. A high window permitted just enough light to see by. Inside the locker was a table, a watering can, a plant mister - and the Tokyo Rose.

"Well," Alexis said, putting her hands on her hips. "That answers that question."

"Yeah, but it raises a whole bunch of new ones," Jigen said, tucking away his lock picks.

Alexis walked up to the little green plant. It looked so unassuming. "So this is what all the bother is about, eh?" she said, bending down to peer at it. She glanced over her shoulder at Jigen. "Should we take it with us?"

Jigen shook his head and pulled out a cigarette. "Bad idea," he said, lighting up. "We don't want to tip our hand."

"Well, we have to take something back with us," Alexis said. She dug her hand into the pocket of her heavy cotton jacket and pulled out an object that looked like a gold Zippo lighter.

"You still have that friggin' thing?" Jigen said, grinning. "It takes terrible pictures."

Alexis stuck out her tongue and snapped open the camera. "They're good enough for what we want them to do," she said, photographing the plant from a low angle. "Which is prove to Wakahisa that this plant wasn't stolen by your foxhole buddy."

Jigen snorted softly and leaned against the door frame. He watched Alexis as she took a few more pictures.

"That will have to do," Alexis said, sliding the camera closed and tucking it into her pocket. "Please tell me that we have access to a darkroom," she said, turning to Jigen. "I don't want to have to explain this to a one-hour photo shop."

Jigen nodded. "Yeah, there's a darkroom at the house," he said. Alexis nodded briskly and followed him out of the building towards the car.

There was, indeed, a darkroom at the safe house. Alexis knew only the very basic requirements for developing a colour photograph, and it was awkward working in the dark, but with Jigen offering advice from his position on a high stool in one corner of the room, the two of them managed to turn out three reasonably good prints. Alexis hung them to dry and murmured her approval as Jigen hit the light switch.

"Not bad," Alexis said, looking critically at the four-by-fives. The light from the red bulb cast an eerie glow over the photos. She leaned in and peered at each of them in turn. "I'll never be Mark Denton, but they'll do nicely."

Jigen raised one eyebrow. "Mark Denton?" he said, standing and moving to the door. He slouched in the doorway, lifting one long leg and resting his foot against the opposite side of the door frame.

Alexis glanced over her shoulder. "He's a British photographer," she said, smirking at Jigen as he cracked the door open. "Do you prefer Ansel Adams?"

"I don't follow photographers," he said, pulling out a fresh cigarette. He frowned at Alexis as she blew gently on the hanging photos. "Don't fuck with them," Jigen said. "They'll dry on their own." He lit his cigarette and blew a thin stream of smoke into the air.

Alexis tossed him a dark look. "Well, pardon me for being so bloody impatient," she shot back. "In case you hadn't noticed, your friend has less than two days left to live." She stepped towards the door. Jigen held his position, his leg blocking the exit.

"Do you mind?" Alexis said, tapping his knee with one finger.

Jigen watched her, smoke curling around his hat. He said nothing.

Alexis raised one eyebrow. "Well?"

Jigen lifted the brim of his hat with one finger. "Why are you doing this, angel?" he said softly.

Alexis blinked and stepped back. "Doing what?"

Jigen nodded towards the line of drying photographs. "Getting involved," he said, drawing on his cigarette. "You don't even know Goemon. What's in this for you?"

Alexis' heart throbbed furiously in her chest as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you not have enough to occupy your time without questioning my motives?" She tossed her hair, hoping that Jigen would mistake her nervousness for annoyance. "Just because I don't know him well doesn't mean I haven't any respect for him." She waved one hand at the photos. "Doesn't it bother you that he's been blamed for something that wasn't his fault?"

"Of course it friggin' bothers me." Jigen glared at her. "But I'm his friend. You're just -" He bit his tongue against the words, but it was too late.

Alexis glanced sharply at Jigen, her eyes flashing. "Just .. what? Just some stupid bint who doesn't know when to keep her nose out?" She growled softly. "I like a good painting as much as anyone," she said, her voice growing cold, "but I really hate an ugly frame."

Jigen studied Alexis for a long moment. She met his gaze defiantly, as though daring him to press the issue. At last, Jigen took a final drag from his cigarette and lowered his leg.

"Get the photos," he said, turning away from her. "We gotta bounce."

Alexis watched him leave, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She would be damned if she'd admit her motives to anyone, least of all Jigen. With deliberate slowness, Alexis gathered up the three photographs, all the while trying to even her breathing and slow her racing pulse. Slipping the pictures into a thin plastic envelope, she stepped into the hall and closed the darkroom door behind her.


	12. Chasing Emi

"You say your son is at school, sir?" Inspector Zenigata tapped his pencil against his notepad. He looked up from his chair, positioned immediately opposite Wakahisa's massive mahogany desk.

"Yes," Wakahisa said, gesturing towards a young girl who stood waiting in a corner. "More tea," he said to her, and she picked up the empty teapot and glided out of the room.

"Your staff is very efficient," Zenigata said, his eyes narrowing. "Where were your people when the Rose was stolen?"

Wakahisa pulled a list of names from a drawer. "I have asked every member of my staff to account for his or her whereabouts that evening," he said, leaning across the desk to give Zenigata the list. "That is a detailed account of their movements. Most of them were asleep, I'm afraid." Wakahisa shook his head. "I'm sure that can't be verified."

Zenigata leaned back in his chair as the housegirl returned to the room and filled his cup with hot, fresh tea. "Probably not, sir," he said, "but it will certainly be helpful. Thank you," he said, folding the list and tucking it into his notebook.

Wakahisa inclined his head politely. "Anything I can do to be of assistance, inspector," he said, for what seemed like the hundredth time. "As for my son and daughter, well, they were likely in bed. Emi is still in school, and Katsu has an early class at the University on Wednesdays."

Zenigata nodded thoughtfully. "I see," he said. "I'll need to talk to both of them, if you don't mind."

Wakahisa smiled quietly. "Of course. Emi-chan is home; I'll have her brought right away." He clapped his hands together three times, and another young woman appeared. To her, he said, "Please tell Emi to join us." The woman bowed and left the room. When she returned a moment later, Emi was behind her.

Wakahisa's daughter was pretty enough, with a sweet face and long dark hair twisted into two thick braids. She wore her school uniform: a dark plaid skirt, white blouse, and white socks. There were spots of colour in her cheeks, and she looked as though she had been crying. At her father's brusque gesture, she stepped into the room and bowed to Inspector Zenigata.

Zenigata stood, removing his hat and bowing politely.

"Hello, young lady," he said.

Emi looked up at him through tear-wet lashes and smiled weakly.

"I'm Inspector Zenigata from the ICPO. There are some things I'd like to clear up," Zenigata said, floundering slightly. This always seemed to happen to him around young girls. Or very bossy women. He cleared his throat and tried to smile in a friendly way. "May I ask you a few questions regarding your father's missing flower?"

Emi nodded silently. She tugged on the laces at her wrists, twisting them between her fingers.

"Emi-chan." Wakahisa's voice was sharp, and Emi looked at him quickly, her eyes wide with what looked like fear. "You will speak when you are spoken to."

Emi swallowed thickly and looked up at Inspector Zenigata. "I am happy to answer your questions, sir," she said in a small, faint voice.

Zenigata shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Uh," he said awkwardly. He dropped his hat on a side table. "Thank you, Emi-chan." He gripped his notepad like a security blanket. "Where were you Tuesday night?" he asked, his pencil poised to take down her statement.

"I was performing the tea ceremony," Emi said, smiling slightly. "Aunt Noriko has been teaching me."

"I see." Zenigata wrote this down. Merely by stepping into his formal role, he seemed to lose some of his nervousness. "And where was the ceremony performed?"

"In the dining room," Emi replied. She reflexively nodded over her shoulder towards the hall.

"Mm-hm, mm-hm," Zenigata mumbled, nodding his head and scribbling in his notepad. "And who was present?" he asked, glancing up at her.

Emi looked thoughtful. "Aunt Noriko was there, of course," she said slowly, "and father. And Katsu."

Zenigata nodded again. "And your mother?"

Silence. Emi stared at the floor and blinked several times in rapid succession. She looked to be on the verge of tears.

From behind the inspector, Wakahisa spoke softly: "My wife died two years ago, inspector."

Zenigata blushed and turned towards Wakahisa. He bowed deeply. "I'm very sorry, sir," he said.

Wakahisa inclined his head and smiled gently. "I thank you, inspector," he said. "It was a trying time, but things are settling back to normal, now."

Turning back to Emi, Zenigata gave her a moment to compose herself. When she finally looked up at him, he continued. "What time did the ceremony end, Miss Wakahisa?" he asked.

"It was eleven o'clock; I know because I heard the hall clock chime the hour," Emi said. "Katsu took a cup of tea to Goe --" At her father's disapproving look, she caught herself. "Ishikawa-san," she said hastily, a faint blush touching her cheeks. "I cleaned up the dishes with Aunt Noriko, and then went to bed."

Zenigata scratched a few notes with his nearly-blunt pencil. He paused, looked up at the ceiling, and scribbled a few more words. Then: "Did you leave your room at all that night?"

Emi drew a sharp breath. She twisted her fingers together nervously. "No," she said at last.

Inspector Zenigata raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain, Emi-chan?" he asked. "This is very important."

"Yes, inspector," Emi replied faintly. Once again, she stared at the floor.

Wakahisa studied his daughter carefully. His expression gave nothing away.

Zenigata narrowed his eyes. "And did you hear anyone moving around in the hall after you went to bed?" He began to write in his notebook again.

Emi frowned slightly. "No, sir," she said. "Except..." She hesitated.

Zenigata looked up. "Yes?"

"I thought I heard Katsu's voice," Emi said. She looked uncomfortably from her father to the inspector, then lowered her gaze again.

"I see." Zenigata kept his voice carefully neutral. "And no one came into your room that night?"

Emi's head snapped up, and she blinked at the inspector. "Into my room?" she repeated.

"Yes."

Emi blinked again. "I'm .. I'm not sure I understand the question."

Wakahisa interrupted. There was a touch of irritation in his voice as he said, "It's perfectly clear, Emi: did anyone enter your room on Tuesday night?"

Emi looked sharply at her father, then shook her head quickly. "No, sir," she said, her gaze sliding away from him. She stared at Zenigata's notebook as he tried to get the most out of his now-exhausted pencil.

Inspector Zenigata sighed, tucked the dead pencil into his pocket, and closed his notebook. He peered at Emi for a moment, then nodded formally.

"Thank you, Emi-chan," he said, bowing to her. "That's all the questions I have for you at the moment."

Emi bowed in return.

"You may go, Emi," Wakahisa said. He steepled his fingers and inclined his head to his daughter as she bowed again and backed out of the room.

Zenigata watched her go, then turned back to the old man behind the desk. "You said Katsu-san is still at the University?" the inspector asked.

Wakahisa nodded. "Yes, although he should be home at one o'clock." He gestured to the chair in which Zenigata had been sitting. "Will you stay and have some more tea, inspector?"

Zenigata shook his head, his gaze never leaving Wakahisa's face. "No, thank you." The inspector glanced at his watch. "I should be getting back to the precinct. Would it be an imposition for me to return this afternoon when your son is home?" he asked.

Wakahisa stood, a faint smile touching his lips. "We are at your disposal, inspector," he said, bowing. "I am grateful for your diligence and dedication in this matter."

"It's my pleasure," Zenigata replied, returning the bow. "And my job," he mumbled to himself, as he left the house. Something was definitely not-quite-right around this place. To his dismay, he was starting to wonder if Lupin really did have anything to do with the missing Tokyo Rose. He scratched his head thoughtfully as one of his officers drove him away.

Wait a minute. Where was his hat?


	13. Burden of Proof

The soothing sound of chanting filled the little garden. Goemon continued to kneel on the grass next to the small stone altar, his face pale and drawn. To the trained observer, it would have been obvious that he had not moved in days.

"Still getting ready for the big event, are you?"

Goemon slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Lupin. "You are disturbing me in my final moments," he said weakly.

"Yeah, well this is gonna disturb you even more." Jigen's voice was harsh. "Your employer's kid stole that friggin' flower." He threw himself down onto the stone bench next to the altar and pulled a cigarette from his jacket.

Goemon shook his head. The effort it took was apparent. "I do not believe you."

"Believe it," Jigen growled. He tossed a handful of photos at Goemon; they landed in a neat fan on the grass, just inches away from the samurai's knees.

Goemon stared at the pictures. His dismay was so profound that he failed to notice Fujiko and Alexis entering through the garden gate. Fujiko sat down on the bench next to Jigen, who gave her a horrified look and tried to put as much space as possible between himself and the buxom brunette. Fujiko stuck out her tongue at him.

"I'm sorry, Goemon," Alexis said gently. She crouched before him, trying to catch his eye. "But you see, you aren't at fault. We think Katsu may have drugged you when he brought you that tea."

Goemon blinked, puzzled. He seemed unable to entertain the idea of betrayal. "But why?" he asked, raising his head slowly and looking at Alexis. His eyes held not only bewilderment, but hurt. "Why would he do such a thing?"

Fujiko leaned back and crossed her arms over her stomach. "Well, he didn't seem too impressed by your ancestry when I ran into him at the theatre," she said wryly. "You know, some people actually remember the original Ishikawa Goemon," she added, gesturing with one hand, "and they really don't like him."

"But I have done nothing!" Goemon protested. He glanced at each of his visitors in turn, his gaze finally coming to rest on the sword that lay sheathed on the ground before him. "I have done nothing," he repeated softly, his voice trailing off. It was an effort to speak.

"Goemon," Alexis said hesitantly. She nervously ran her fingers through her hair. This was not an easy topic to broach. "Katsu's sister is obviously very fond of you, and --"

"I have already told you," Goemon said sharply, his cheeks flaming, "that has nothing to do with --"

"What if he doesn't approve of his sister's feelings for you?" Alexis interrupted. Standing behind her, Lupin nodded in agreement. "Wouldn't it be better if you were out of the picture completely?"

Goemon frowned and glanced up at Lupin. "I have not encouraged her in any way," he insisted.

"You know that, and we know that." Lupin shrugged eloquently. "But it might not matter to him," he said. His expression was serious. "Your death would do a lot to alleviate his concerns."

"Permanently," Jigen added, biting down on his unlit cigarette.

"How can you prove any of this?" Goemon asked. His shoulders sagged slightly, and his voice was drained and colourless.

Jigen lifted the brim of his hat and stared at Goemon. "The fact that the flower's in his friggin' storage locker doesn't do it for you?" he said in amazement.

Goemon shook his head. "No," he said softly. "Unless there is proof that the cup was drugged, then I am still to blame for falling asleep on duty."

Fujiko rolled her eyes, Jigen growled softly, and Alexis sighed and rose to her feet. Only Lupin seemed confident.

"Oh, don't worry," he said, as much for the others as for Goemon. "We'll get the proof." Lupin moved to the gate and held it open as his motley crew filed out of the garden. "And Goemon?" he added, as he turned to follow them.

The samurai tore his gaze away from the three photographs, and looked up.

"Eat something," Lupin said, grinning. "You don't want to die of starvation before you have a chance to kill yourself, right?" He closed the door and turned to find the others staring at him in amazement.

"What the hell was that?" Jigen demanded, as Lupin walked towards the Roadster. "You're encouraging him to commit seppuku?"

Lupin flashed a mischievous look at Jigen. "Of course not," he said, hopping into the car and starting it up. Fujiko and Alexis climbed into the back seat; Jigen rode shotgun. "I just don't want him to waste away on us. At least now he'll still be healthy when we find our proof."

Jigen grumbled wordlessly. Fujiko and Alexis gave each other doubtful looks.

"Trust me," Lupin said, his eyes twinkling. "I know what I'm doing."

Fujiko smirked. "You always say that, Lupin. And nobody ever believes you." She leaned over the back of the seat. "So, what now?"

"You and I are going back to the Wakahisa estate to find that evidence," Lupin said. He put the car into reverse and backed down the little dirt road that led up to the temple. "But first, we drop Bluebird off at her hotel." He glanced at his partner. "Jigen, you go with her. Get her checked out, and move her into the safe house." He shifted gears as the car reached asphalt. "Way easier to keep track of things if we're all in the same place."

"Sure, boss." Jigen pulled his hat down and lit his cigarette. He managed to take one puff before Alexis reached from behind him and plucked it from his mouth. He turned and stared at her as she took a long drag. She didn't return the cigarette: just sat back and glowered at the back of Lupin's head as he turned the car towards Tokyo.

Jigen narrowed his eyes. This wasn't like her at all. He debated saying something, but finally gave an inward shrug and lit a fresh smoke. He'd have plenty of time to get to the bottom of it. Besides, if it was going to be anything like when he'd questioned her about Goemon's frame-up, it was something he'd rather do in private. Jigen wanted answers, and he didn't want Lupin or Fujiko to know how far he'd go in order to get them.


	14. Drawing Lessons

Alexis hadn't brought much with her to Tokyo, and it was a simple enough task to pack up her things and check out of the hotel. She didn't see the need for Jigen to tag along.

"I'm perfectly capable of doing this, you know," she grumbled as they came down the lift and stepped into the lobby.

"Relax, angel. I'm only helping because Lupin told me to," Jigen said, as Alexis paid her bill and accepted her receipt. He picked up her single piece of luggage and carried it easily to the door as she followed behind.

"Do you always do what he says?" Alexis asked, slipping her wallet into her pocket. She opened the door, and the two of them stepped out onto the street.

Jigen ignored her; instead, he handed her suitcase to a porter, who opened the trunk of a waiting cab and placed it carefully within. Alexis tipped the man generously and bowed slightly to him as he opened the back door of the taxi. Jigen slid into the seat next to her, leaned forward, and gave instructions to the driver. Within moments, they were on their way out of the city.

"And what are we supposed to do at the house while Lupin and Fujiko are busy being _productive_?" Alexis said. She rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them. The driver noticed, and turned on the heat. Alexis smiled at him and inclined her head politely.

"It's a big place," Jigen said, ignoring the 'no smoking' signs in the cab. "I'm sure you can find something to occupy yourself." He opened his window slightly, cigarette smoke drifting away in the afternoon breeze.

Alexis grunted in reply, lost in her own thoughts. Staying at Lupin's hideout wasn't at the top of her list of things to do while in Japan. But Lupin was right: it would be easier to coordinate their efforts if they were all based out of the same location. Alexis leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. It really was a big place. She could find things to do to keep herself busy. Things that would keep her away from Jigen.

Jigen glanced over at Alexis, watching her out of the corner of his eye as the taxi sped out of Tokyo. He'd actually found himself missing her since they'd parted company in London over a year ago. He felt more than a little foolish. Neither of them led the sort of lives that were conducive to long-term relationships. Hell, he didn't even have a fixed address.

Throughout this whole fiasco, he'd had the feeling that she was trying to avoid him, or at least pull away from him. Maybe it was because of London. Or maybe she'd found someone else. Jigen was surprised to feel the faintest stirrings of jealousy at the thought. Ridiculous. He didn't own her, and she'd certainly never suggested that they be faithful to each other. And it wasn't as though they were in love.

They rode in silence the rest of the way. The taxi stopped, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and the driver helped them out of the car. As he drove away, Alexis looked around the nearly empty countryside, her suitcase at her feet. There were a few trees in the distance, some thick brush on either side of the road, and little else.

"Um... now what?"

Jigen pulled a wrinkled cigarette from his pocket and lit it. "There's a car hidden nearby," he said, slipping the lighter back into his jacket. "C'mon." He picked up the suitcase and they started walking towards the dense scrub. Alexis tilted her head curiously as Jigen dug a set of keys from his pocket, then pointed. It took a moment, but finally, Alexis was able to make out a small, dark brown Aygo. She chuckled.

"Clever," she said, as they pushed their way through the brush. Stiff branches caught on Alexis' black duster coat, tugging at the knit fabric as though trying to keep her there.

Jigen shrugged. He put the suitcase in the back seat, then lifted the brim of his hat with one thumb and looked at Alexis over the roof of the car. "Lupin's idea," he said shortly. "He's the most friggin' cautious bastard I've ever worked with, but it pays off in the end."

Alexis slipped into the front seat and buckled herself in. Jigen carefully manoeuvred the car out of the dense vegetation, then bit down hard on his cigarette and pushed the gas pedal to the floor. The shorter the trip, the happier he'd be. This awkwardness between them was getting to be too much. The countryside rushed past as they gathered speed. Within minutes, they were pulling into the driveway at the safehouse.

Stepping out of the car, Alexis looked up at the house and sighed heavily. She hadn't had much of a chance to look around earlier, but that was about to change. She studied the white stucco finish as Jigen took her suitcase from the back seat. When he slammed the door, she flinched and closed her eyes. He was angry; that much, she could tell. She just had no idea why.

Jigen took a final drag from his cigarette and butted it in a potted plant by the front door. He looked back at Alexis and frowned.

"You gonna stand there all friggin' day, or what?" he snapped. Alexis' eyes flew open, and she held his gaze for a minute before he turned away and opened the door. He disappeared inside; Alexis took a deep breath and followed.

"You can stay in here," Jigen was saying. There was a staircase in the front hall, and he was half-way up it. Alexis quickly climbed after him, and they stepped into a small bedroom, decorated in white, with Western-style furniture. The bed was an iron four-poster, and there was a tall chest of drawers next to a white, roll-top desk.

Alexis moved to the window, which looked out over the back of the house. She turned to Jigen as he set her luggage on the bed. "Is that what I think it is?" she said, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb. Her eyes sparkled with interest. "Have you set up a shooting range in the yard?"

She seemed happier than before, and Jigen relaxed slightly. "Yeah. I did it while you were helping Fujiko get ready for the ballet," he said, coming to join Alexis by the window. He opened it and leaned out over the sill. It was unseasonably warm out here in the country, and there was a mild breeze blowing. Jigen glanced at Alexis over his shoulder. "You interested?"

Alexis nodded eagerly. "Always," she said, unzipping her suitcase and digging around inside it.

Jigen nearly smiled at her enthusiasm. "You need to borrow a gun?" he asked, pulling a crumpled pack of smokes from his pocket. He looked inside it. Empty again.

Alexis shook her head. "I brought my Walther," she said, pulling the holstered gun from the depths of her suitcase. She unclasped her black leather belt, and Jigen felt his heart slam against the inside of his body. "I still have a few favours left with the Paris Airport Authority," she added, slipping her belt through the holster and rebuckling it. Adjusting the gun at her side, Alexis looked up at Jigen and smiled brightly. His chest ached; he felt an irrational urge to kiss her, but fought it back.

"I gotta get some more friggin' smokes," he said, keeping an even tone. He crushed the empty pack of Pall Malls in his fist and tossed it into the small white garbage bin next to the desk. "Meet you out back, yeah?"

They parted in the hallway, Jigen heading to his room, and Alexis to the range. She was just finishing her first clip when he joined her. There were four targets set up at twenty-five yard intervals. Each was backed with a sandbag barrier, and Alexis was firing at each of them in turn.

"Not bad," Jigen said, speaking around a fresh cigarette. He tossed the pack on a low table that held a box of safety gear. Not that he or Lupin ever used the glasses or ear muffs, but it was the principle of the thing.

Alexis removed her magazine and set her gun on the bench that separated her from the range itself. She had obviously been into the box of gear: she was wearing safety glasses, and as Jigen came up behind her, she pulled off her ear muffs before turning to him.

"Sorry?" she said. There were several boxes of cheap nine millimetre ammo sitting on the bench, and she reached for one.

"I said, 'not bad'," Jigen replied. He pulled out his Magnum and opened the cylinder. Nodding to himself, he flicked it closed and waited for Alexis to reload her magazine. "How about a little contest?"

Alexis snorted softly, but she was smiling. "You're putting me on," she said mischievously. "You don't really think I could possibly win a shooting contest against you, do you?"

Jigen chuckled. "No, but I thought I'd give you the chance to try," he said. He pulled down the brim of his hat and pointed to the twenty-five yard target. "You ready to go hot?"

Alexis readjusted her ear muffs and nodded. She slid the loaded magazine into her weapon and pulled back the slide. "Start your engines," she said, as Jigen stepped into place behind the bench.

"Go," he said, and together they lifted their weapons. For a few minutes, the air was filled with faint blue smoke, and the roar of two guns firing in synch.

Jigen snapped open his Magnum and dumped the empty cartridges as Alexis finished her clip. She lowered the Walther and removed her ear muffs.

"I don't know how you do it," she said, popping out the magazine and setting her gun on the shooting bench. She pulled off her glasses, then moved to the low table and tossed them into the box of gear, along with the ear muffs.

"I've only spent most of my friggin' life with a gun in one hand," Jigen replied. He pulled a handful of bullets from his jacket pocket and reloaded the Magnum. He snapped the cylinder closed and gestured towards the target. "Nice grouping," he said. "But I'll bet you still can't draw worth a damn."

Alexis laughed and returned to the bench. She reloaded her magazine and slid it home, then set the safety and slipped the Walther into its holster. "I've been working on it," she said, rubbing her hands on her jeans. Her palms were damp; they left faint streaks on the black denim.

Jigen threw his expended cigarette to the ground and crushed it underfoot. He lifted the brim of his fedora with the barrel of his gun and eyed Alexis. "Oh yeah?" he said, smirking. "Show me."

Alexis took a deep breath, then drew her weapon. The front sight caught briefly on her holster, which slowed her down considerably. Jigen winced.

"That bad, eh?" Alexis said. She sighed and reholstered her gun.

"Yeah." Jigen set his Smith & Wesson on the shooting bench and reached into his pocket for a fresh smoke. "Do it again," he said, lighting up.

Alexis did as he instructed, and he watched her carefully, his eyes narrowed.

"Okay, I see what you're doing wrong," he said, sticking the cigarette between his lips and moving towards her. "Now, bear in mind, you're never going to be able to shoot as fast as I do," he added, as Alexis lowered her gun. She laughed sharply.

"That's flash," she said drily.

Jigen tilted his head. "It's not what you think," he mumbled, reaching for his Magnum. "It's because I'm using a single-action revolver. I can fire faster than you because I cock my gun as I'm drawing it." Alexis frowned slightly and stared at her weapon. Jigen could practically see her thought process. "Don't do it," he said with a chuckle, and she looked up at him in surprise. "Don't give up your Walther just so you can be a friggin' quick draw," he clarified. "You've grown familiar with your own weapon; you know how it handles, how to take care of it, what to expect if things go wrong." Jigen shook his head and holstered his gun. He stepped up to the bench.

"I can't teach you how to shoot like this," he said. It took him less than half a second to draw, cock, and fire his weapon at the fifty-yard target. Jigen looked back at Alexis, whose mouth hung open in amazement. "But I can teach you how to draw your own gun quickly, without getting it caught on your holster." He grinned wickedly, spinning the Mangum with one hand.

Alexis blushed deeply and slid her weapon home. Jigen set his revolver back on the bench and stepped towards her. The lesson had begun.


	15. Hat Trick

Zenigata arrived at the Wakahisa estate just after three. At the door, he was greeted by one of Wakahisa's many house maids.

"Ah, Inspector Zenigata!" she said, motioning for him to step inside. "Wakahisa-san has been expecting you. This way, please."

As they walked through the house towards Wakahisa's office, Zenigata craned his neck to see every nook and cranny. He must have left his hat somewhere here, since it wasn't at his office, and he rarely went home. After a moment, he stopped looking for his hat, and began to realise how busy the place had become. There were men in suits, men in white lab coats, men with clipboards. Zenigata narrowed his eyes. How much had Wakahisa told his associates about the theft of the Tokyo Rose?

The maid left Zenigata at the door of the office and scurried off. The inspector stepped into the room. Wakahisa was sitting behind his desk, as usual. He seemed greyer today; more tired. His glasses sat at the end of his nose, and he was writing something in an old-style ledger. Zenigata coughed softly, and Wakahisa looked up.

"Ah, come in, come in." The older man stood and came out from behind the desk. He bowed to Zenigata, who returned the gesture. "Thank you for coming by."

Zenigata smiled weakly. His gaze darted around the room. His hat was nowhere to be seen.

"You're here to see Katsu, is that right?" Wakahisa looked up at Zenigata. "Please, inspector; do sit down. I'll send for him." He clapped his hands together, and the sound echoed. Zenigata was mildly surprised that the old man had the strength in him.

One of the house maids, a different one than the girl who had opened the door, poked her head into the office. She had bright eyes and an equally bright smile.

"Yes, Wakahisa-san?"

"Suki-chan, please see that Katsu is brought? The inspector wishes to speak with him."

Suki nodded cheerfully and disappeared. Zenigata waited until Wakahisa had settled behind his desk again, then pulled his casebook from deep within his overcoat pocket and sat in the comfortable leather client's chair. He gave one last, futile glance around the room. No hat.

Sighing heavily, Zenigata opened the notebook and pulled a new pencil from an inside pocket. "If you don't mind, sir, there are a couple of things I'd like to ask you, while we're waiting for Katsu-san."

Wakahisa removed his glasses and set them on the desk, then pushed aside his pen and ledger. "Of course, inspector," he said. He looked as exhausted as Zenigata felt. "Anything I can do to help."

"Did you find a note?"

Wakahisa frowned. "A note?" he echoed.

Zenigata nodded. "Yes, sir. A note. At the scene of the crime. Was there a ransom note left there, or a letter, or some writing to suggest that the thief was, say, gloating?"

Wakahisa blinked. "No," he said. "No, nothing like that."

"And there weren't any, well, threats?" Zenigata suggested. "No one called or wrote to you, to tell you that the Tokyo Rose would be stolen?" He sounded almost hopeful.

Wakahisa shook his head firmly. "Of course not," he replied. "This came as a complete surprise, I assure you."

Zenigata sighed again and made a note in his casebook. It was not a notation he particularly wanted to make. It was a notation that suggested that perhaps Lupin was not the guilty party. At least, not in this case.

There was a tromping sound in the hallway, and voices. Two men walked by the office, speaking rapidly about some sort of business deal. Behind them came a man in a pair of light trousers and a blue jacket, mumbling something to himself about plant food.

"Uh, sir," Zenigata said carefully, not wanting to give offence, "there are a lot of people coming in and out of your house." He fiddled with his pencil. "They're not all here about the Rose, are they?"

Wakahisa chuckled softly. "Of course not, inspector," he said, giving Zenigata a reassuring smile. He lowered his voice to a murmur. "As we discussed, the only people who know about the theft of my _mirus concisus_ are the police, your men, and my insurance agent." He lifted a hand. "I know what you're going to say, but it was important that my agent be informed of the crime, in case the flower cannot be retrieved."

Zenigata frowned slightly. "Then who are all these people?"

"Most of them are business associates," Wakahisa said, tapping the brown leather cover of a thick appointment book that sat on his desk. "I've told most of them that my doctor has diagnosed me with hypertension, and has prescribed rest." He chuckled again. "It's entirely believable, inspector; and also believable that I would continue to work from home, even as I follow the doctor's 'orders'." He smiled across the desk at Zenigata, who nodded thoughtfully.

"Following the letter of the law, if not the spirit. Is that right, sir?"

Wakahisa's smile widened, and he almost looked happy. "Quite right, inspector," he said.

There was a movement at the door, and Katsu Wakahisa stepped into the office. He was well-dressed, his beige trousers crisply pressed, his white button-down shirt free from all wrinkles and stains. He wore an ugly brown tie, held fast with a Tokyo University tie pin. He was wearing some kind of cologne; the cloying scent of amber resin followed him into the room.

"You wished to see me, father?" he said, bowing slightly.

The elder Wakahisa did not rise from his chair, but gestured at Zenigata, who stood quickly and turned towards the younger man.

"Hello, Katsu-san," he said, suddenly painfully conscious of just how rumpled his suit and overcoat must look. "I'm Inspector Zenigata of the ICPO. I'm here investigating the theft of the Tokyo Rose, and I need to speak to everyone in the household." Zenigata inclined his head in a gesture of apology. "I'm sorry to have to intrude on your studies," he added.

Katsu bowed again, this time to Zenigata. "I understand completely, inspector," he said. His voice was firm and confident. "I'm not certain that I can be of assistance, but I'm happy to answer any questions you might have." He straightened, standing almost at attention.

Zenigata frowned slightly, alarm bells clanging in his head. Katsu couldn't be more than twenty-one, and yet he was being helpful. Towards a police officer. "I appreciate that, Katsu-san," Zenigata said warily. "Shall we begin?" The inspector turned a page in his notebook. "Where were you on Tuesday night?"

"I joined my family for the tea ceremony," Katsu said. He seemed relaxed, undisturbed by the idea of being questioned by the police. "When it ended, I took a cup of tea to Ishikawa-san where he sat in the garden." Katsu bit his bottom lip, and Inspector Zenigata raised one eyebrow slightly. "I was the last person to see him," Katsu continued. He sounded as though he were agonising over the fact. "I should have noticed something."

His father interrupted. "Now, now," Wakahisa said. His voice held a hint of warning, but against what, Zenigata couldn't tell. "You cannot blame yourself."

The inspector nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Lupin and his gang are very clever, very clever indeed. I've been after them for years." Zenigata stopped abruptly. "Uh." Was he admitting his own failure? He cleared his throat and returned swiftly to the matter at hand. "What did you do after you brought the tea to the garden?"

Katsu looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. "I went to my room and studied for a couple of hours."

"Mm-hm," Zenigata mumbled. His pencil flew over the yellow notepad. "And what time did you leave your room?" he asked, lifting his eyes to study Katsu's expression.

He was well-rewarded. Katsu's composure was shaken, although the difference was very slight. "...Leave my room?" he echoed. At his sides, his hands slowly closed into loose fists. "I never left my room."

Zenigata looked mildly surprised. "Oh?" he replied. "Your sister said that she heard your voice in the hall."

"Oh, that!" Katsu seemed relieved. Perhaps too relieved. Zenigata watched the young man as he nodded eagerly. "Well, I did go to the toilet just before midnight." His brow creased in thought. "Yes, it was just before midnight, I believe."

"How do you know what time it was?" Zenigata asked. His voice was carefully neutral, his hands steady, but inside, more warning bells were going off.

Katsu smiled easily at the inspector. "I heard the clock strike twelve as I returned to my room," he said. He had regained his confidence. His hands relaxed again.

Zenigata nodded, scribbling this information in his casebook. "Did you run into anyone else in the hall?"

Katsu shook his head. "No, sir; although I did say '_oyasumi nasai_' to Ishikawa-san."

More scribbling. "Mm-hm, mm-hm. And in the morning?" Zenigata looked up at Katsu.

"I went to school, as always," the young man said. "I have an early class on Wednesdays." He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head slightly. "I didn't even know that father's flower was missing until I arrived home from the university that afternoon."

Zenigata blinked in surprise. "Do you not usually speak to your father in the morning?"

Katsu blushed faintly. "I'm afraid I overslept," he said meekly. He shuffled his stockinged feet. "I had to rush to get to class on time."

"Do you often have trouble sleeping?" Zenigata asked. He looked carefully at Katsu. The young man didn't seem to have any nervous tics; his eyes weren't swollen or red, and he seemed to be alert and well-rested.

Katsu shook his head again. "Not at all," he replied. He smiled crookedly. "I guess I stayed up too late studying," he said.

Zenigata chuckled softly. "Well, a growing boy needs his sleep." He returned the smile and flipped to a new page in his notebook. A change of topic was in order. "Do you know anything about Ishikawa-san?"

Zenigata wasn't a mind-reader, but he had been at this job for a long time, and he was astute enough to notice even the slightest change of expression. Katsu's face had briefly registered disgust, but his voice betrayed nothing. He shook his head slowly.

"Only that he is the descendant of the notorious thief and assassin, Ishikawa Goemon," Katsu said. He was watching his father as he spoke. "I should have been more cautious from the start, just knowing his history."

Zenigata glanced over his shoulder in time to see Wakahisa's features tighten. It was obvious: Katsu had just challenged his father's competence. "I see." The inspector turned back to Katsu. "You wouldn't know where I could find him?" he asked.

Once more, Katsu shook his head. "I'm afraid not, inspector."

Zenigata sighed softly. "Well, thank you, Katsu-san," he said. He closed his notebook and stuffed it into his overcoat. "You've been very helpful."

Katsu bowed formally. "My pleasure, inspector," he replied. He smiled warmly at Zenigata. "I hope you catch Ishikawa-san, and this Lupin character. They sound like bad news."

"Thank you." Zenigata watched Katsu as he left the room, taking the ugly tie and the smell of amber with him. The inspector turned to Wakahisa. "And thank you, sir," he said. "I appreciate your continued cooperation." Zenigata patted his pocket. "I'll take this information back to the station with me." He turned to leave. "Oh!" Snapping his fingers, the inspector turned back to Wakahisa. "One more thing: could you tell me where I can find the monk who recommended this Ishikawa fellow?"

Wakahisa nodded and began to write an address on the back of one of his own business cards. "Certainly, inspector. He keeps a temple in our prefecture." The older man stood and presented the card to Zenigata. "You can find him there most mornings."

"Again, thank you, sir." Zenigata glanced at the address and then tucked the card into his coat. "I'm sure I'll have an answer for you soon." He bowed to Wakahisa, who returned the gesture.

"I know you're doing everything you can, inspector," he said. "I am extremely grateful."

Zenigata stepped out of the office, nearly colliding with the girl who had gone to collect Katsu for his interview. "Excuse me!" Zenigata blushed. "I, uh --"

"Oh, inspector! I'm so glad you haven't left." Suki moved so quickly that it looked as though she had simply vanished. Zenigata blinked. In another instant, the maid was back, carrying an attractive, dark brown hat. She held it out to Zenigata.

"You left this here yesterday, sir."

Zenigata blinked at the hat. "This is .. _my_ hat?" he said, his voice heavy with disbelief.

"Yes, sir." Suki offered it again.

Again, Zenigata blinked at the hat. "It looks .. different," he said. He frowned slightly.

"Yes, sir," Suki repeated. "I had one of the girls clean it and brush the felt. She did such a fine job, don't you think, sir?" She flicked a piece of dust from the brim and held it up. "It looks nearly as good as new!"

Zenigata hesitated. Once more, he blinked at the hat. "You're _sure_ this is my hat?" he asked. He glanced at Suki, his eyes wide. He looked slightly lost.

Suki smiled kindly at him. Her voice was gentle. "Quite sure, sir," she said with infinite patience.

Zenigata held out his hands with trepidation, and Suki relinquished his hat. "Well, uh --" The inspector turned it over in his hands. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

Suki bobbed a couple of times, two quick bows. "You're very welcome, sir," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Have a safe drive back into the city."

"Nnh," Zenigata mumbled. He wandered out of the house towards his car, still staring at his hat. How had they managed to get it so clean? He sniffed it cautiously. It smelled faintly of sandalwood.

The officer who had brought the inspector to the house leaned over and opened the passenger door. Zenigata managed, somehow, to find his way into his seat. The officer glanced at him, then down at his hands.

"That's a nice hat, sir. Is it new?"

Zenigata stared at his freshly-cleaned hat all the way back to Tokyo.


	16. Unanswered Questions

Jigen looked exhausted. The afternoon had only grown warmer; mid-way through the lesson, he'd set aside his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Now he pushed his hat back on his head and wiped his forearm across his brow. The lesson was nearly over. Finally.

It wasn't that Alexis was a poor student, but she didn't take instruction well. Jigen attributed it to her stubborn streak -- the one he'd been exposed to all afternoon. Alexis had argued, insisted, and grumbled throughout the lesson. She was improving, but if she hadn't been so bull-headed, she'd have been a hell of a lot better by now.

"I'll have forgotten everything you taught me by the time I get back to France," Alexis said, holstering her Walther. She peered up at the sky. The sun was low on the horizon, and she briefly wondered how Lupin and Fujiko were doing.

"You'd better not," Jigen said gruffly. He took the last cigarette from his most recent pack and lit it. "Or I'll come to Paris and kick your friggin' ass all the way back to England." He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with smoke.

Alexis stiffened. The idea that Jigen would come to Paris struck a chord in her that she wasn't prepared to hear. She turned away from him.

"I need a drink," she said abruptly. "Does Lupin have any gin in the kitchen?"

Jigen pulled his hat down over his eyes again, adjusting it carefully. "Forget the kitchen, angel," he said, picking up his jacket and slinging it over one shoulder. "We've got a whole friggin' bar." He headed towards the house. "C'mon. I'll pour."

The basement was gloriously cool after the warmth and humidity of the afternoon. Jigen tossed his jacket over the back of the brown leather sofa and headed for the bar that dominated the southwest corner of the room. Privately, Alexis felt it was a little tacky, and very nineteen-seventies. Dozens of bottles were lined up on the open shelves, their labels reflected by the enormous mirror that was bolted to the wall behind them. The bar itself was wood, stained dark brown to coordinate with the furniture. For a moment, Alexis wondered if Lupin had allowed Fujiko a free hand at decorating, then dismissed the idea. No woman would have included a bar like that.

Jigen took a bottle of Bombay from the shelves. "G and T, yeah?" he asked, not waiting for a reply. He dropped some ice into a tall glass and poured an ounce, topping it off with tonic water.

"Mm-hm." Alexis approached the bar and sat on one of the ugly brown vinyl-and-metal stools that served as seating. She waited until Jigen had poured himself two fingers of whisky before taking her glass and sipping from it.

Jigen dug around in a cupboard for an ashtray, and Alexis pulled a pack of Gauloises from her pocket. She offered him one, and he lit it with the end of his Pall Mall, then stubbed out the old cigarette in the brown glass ashtray.

They drank and smoked in silence for a few minutes. Pouring himself another shot, Jigen spoke. His head was bowed, his face hidden by his hat.

"You looked good the other night," he said, setting the bottle aside, but not capping it. "At the ballet." He downed the second drink in one smooth motion and fixed himself a third.

Alexis stared at him. She couldn't see his eyes; couldn't detect anything in his voice other than neutral appreciation. "Ta," she said, blushing faintly. She finished off her drink and pushed her glass towards him.

Jigen grunted and mixed another gin and tonic, glad to have something to do. It seemed that every time they ran into each other again, there was an awkward adjustment period before they felt at ease in each others' company. For the first time, however, it was Alexis who seemed to be the most uncomfortable.

Well into his fourth drink, Jigen finally made up his mind. He usually didn't care what someone thought of him, and he certainly wouldn't admit that he cared now. He had no interest in 'being in touch' with anyone's feelings, and that New Age crap gave him a pain. But he hated unanswered questions.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, lifting his head and tilting it to the side. One dark eye was visible beneath the brim of his hat. "About London, I mean."

Alexis blinked at him and stopped in mid-swallow. She could hardly keep track of the barrage of emotions that washed over her: anger, worry, affection, curiosity -- those were the strongest, though she knew there were more. In replying to Jigen's question, she settled on calm denial.

"No," she said slowly. "Why should I be?" She tapped the ash off her cigarette with deliberate care, trying to keep her hand from shaking.

Jigen crushed his filter in the ashtray and finished his whisky. He poured himself another. "I walked away without saying goodbye," he said.

Alexis smiled tightly. "I know," she said. She took one final drag from her cigarette as Jigen lit himself a new one. "And I understand why you did it. Why you'd do it again." She held her glass in both hands and rolled it between her palms. "You said it yourself the last time we saw each other." She looked up at him, her blue eyes unreadable. "You're running away."

"I'm not running from you," Jigen replied. He leaned against the back counter of the bar and watched her.

Alexis laughed. Not her usual musical laugh, or the light giggle she sometimes used when she felt awkward. No; this one was bitter. Caustic.

"Of course you are," she said. "I make you uncomfortable." She took another sip of her drink. "I scare you," she added, her voice softer now. "I should be the one apologising." She finished her drink in one swift gulp and set her glass on the polished surface of the bar.

"For what?" Jigen studied Alexis as he fixed them both fresh drinks. He picked up the gin and tonic and handed it to her. Her fingers brushed against his, cool and dry, as she took the glass. She did not look him in the eye.

"For getting too close, too soon," she said with a faint smile. "I just --" She dipped a finger into her drink then stuck it in her mouth and tasted it. "-- no. There's no excuse." Finally, she looked up at him. "I'm so sorry, Daisuke. Please, forgive me?"

It had been over a year since he'd heard his name spoken like that. Jigen pushed back his hat so she could see his eyes. There was no recrimination in his gaze, only curiosity. He folded his arms across his chest and ignored her apology, choosing instead to focus on her hesitation.

"Tell me," he said.

Alexis shook her head and took a healthy swallow of her drink. "No," she drawled. "I don't think I will." She set her glass on the bar and stood up, turning away and adopting the stance that Jigen had taught her that afternoon. When she spoke again, there was a note of forced casualness in her voice. "I've already done enough damage," she said. "You vanished once before; who's to say you won't disappear again?"

Jigen frowned, but when he saw Alexis draw her gun, he swore.

"What the --?" He extinguished his latest smoke in the ashtray and came around to the other side of the bar. "I just spent two friggin' hours going over this with you, and you're still not getting it right. God damn, woman." He stalked over to her, his eyes dark. "How the hell did you ever learn to walk and talk at the same time?"

Alexis' cheeks burned, and she smiled weakly at him. Jigen crammed his hat down on his head and stood behind her, hooking his right arm in hers, forcing it into immobility. "Stop using this side of your body when you draw," he said, for what seemed like the hundredth time. "It slows you down. Just --" He took her left hand in his, his calloused palm brushing against her pale skin. He tried not to think about it. "Nice and smooth," he murmured, drawing her hand into her body and sliding it over her holster. She picked up the gun on the first pass, the grip fitting perfectly into her hand. "Like that," Jigen finished, as Alexis lifted the gun briefly, then lowered it. She swallowed thickly and looked at him over her right shoulder, her face lifted towards his. Her eyes were wide, her expression open and vulnerable.

He couldn't resist. For a moment, Alexis melted in his arms as he pressed his mouth to hers, the taste of alcohol and cigarettes mingling on their lips. But it was only a moment. Jigen felt the shift in her as she seemed to withdraw from him. He broke the kiss and looked down at her. She took a deep breath, as if to speak.

"Tell me," he said again.

Alexis hesitated, then shook her head. She pulled away from his embrace and set her gun on the bar. "Look, we get on well enough, right?" she asked, picking up her gin and tonic. "I like to think we're friends. I don't want to spoil that with a lot of pointless words." She took a sip of her drink.

"But you don't want to be around me anymore, right?" Jigen shot back. He scowled at her and returned to his own glass, glad to have the bar between them again.

Alexis stared at him. "I'm sorry?"

Jigen downed his latest drink and poured himself a triple. "That's why you don't want to be here, at the house."

"Why --" Alexis blinked. "How did you --"

Jigen smiled wryly. "Let's just say that after seeing how you glared at Lupin in the car, I don't wanna get on your bad side," he said. He shivered. The basement, once refreshingly cool, was now uncomfortably chilly. He started to unroll his sleeves.

Alexis turned away. "It's not what you think," she mumbled against the rim of her glass.

"I don't friggin' know what to think," Jigen snapped. He buttoned his sleeves at the wrists, then took another long swallow of whisky. Briefly, he wondered if it wouldn't make more sense to just drink from the bottle. "You won't tell me anything," he added, as he set down his glass and moved across the room to pick up his jacket. "Hell, this is Goemon's problem. You don't friggin' need to be here for any of this." He gave an exaggerated shrug, and the suit jacket settled comfortably onto his thin shoulders. He was about to continue, but something occurred to him. Something he hadn't considered before now. Slowly, he turned to look at Alexis. "Is that it?" he breathed, inaudible to anyone but himself.

Alexis lit a fresh cigarette. The atmosphere of the room had changed; she could feel it. She tensed, waiting. For what? She had no idea. What eventually did come was the last thing she expected.

Jigen leaned against the bar, next to Alexis. He picked up his glass. "Goemon's a good guy," he said, taking a mouthful of whisky. "Kinda quiet, but he's smart. And he's a devil with that sword."

Alexis nodded cautiously.

"He doesn't have a lot of experience with women, though," Jigen continued, studying his drink, swirling it around in the glass. Alexis blinked at him. "You'll have to take it slow."

"I beg your pardon?" Alexis said, incredulous.

Jigen glanced at her, his cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment. There was something else in his eyes, though, something that Alexis couldn't place. Envy? Hurt? "Hey," he said awkwardly, "I'm only tryin' to offer some friggin' advice."

Alexis stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. "You're such a pillock, Daisuke Jigen," she said, trying to set her drink on the bar without spilling it.

"...What?"

"A pillock," Alexis repeated, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. She giggled wildly. She had expected much, much worse. "A git. A gormless oik." She took a drag from her cigarette and set it in the ashtray. She giggled again, smoke pouring from her nose. "You have no idea what you're on about." She closed her eyes for a moment. If she didn't get control of herself, she'd go into hysterics. Finally, she opened her eyes. Jigen was still staring at her, confusion painted across his features in broad strokes. "I don't fancy Goemon," Alexis said at last. She couldn't resist another smile. "Trust me on this."

Jigen shook his head. "Then what --"

Alexis reached out and pressed a finger to his lips. Jigen shivered again, but it had nothing to do with the temperature. "I've been where he is," Alexis said quietly. She lifted her finger away and sat back on her stool. Jigen didn't try to interrupt. "I've been the painting. Except my frame was much prettier, and more people liked it." She sighed deeply. She didn't like remembering her debts, even to her family. _Especially_ to her family.

She took another sip from her glass and looked up at Jigen. "Is it impossible to believe that I might have a little empathy for your samurai?" Alexis' eyes darkened. "There are worse things than death, Jigen, and Goemon is going through one of them right now."

Jigen set his glass on the bar next to the Walther and tugged at the brim of his hat, pulling it low over his eyes. "What? The friggin' ritual cleansing crap?"

Alexis clucked her tongue at him. "That 'ritual cleansing crap' is probably tearing him up inside." She drew on her cigarette again, blowing a sequence of perfect smoke rings into the still air. "You know as well as I do that preparing for death is sometimes worse than dying." She felt more than heard his sharp intake of breath. Yes, he knew.

"So what?" he said. There was a tightness in him now, as though he were coiled, ready to pounce on something. "What do you even care about all of this?"

Alexis growled in frustration. "Because he's your friend!" she snapped, stabbing her cigarette into the ashtray and turning to Jigen. "Is that so difficult to fathom?"

"Yes, it friggin' is!" Jigen shouted. "You're not that altruistic!" He lifted her off her stool and pushed her against the wall. Alexis was too stunned to think of anything except how impossible his strength was when he was angry. "You've done your part," he snarled at her. "Why. Are. You. Still. Here?"

Alexis' stubbornness chose that moment to kick into overdrive. What Jigen had seen that afternoon had been only the smallest sliver of how much Alexis could resist someone, when she put her mind to it. She set her mouth in a thin, tight line.

Jigen pressed his forearm against her collarbone. "Tell me," he growled.

Alexis hated to be put on the spot, but she'd made a promise to herself not to lie to this man. "None of your bloody business," she muttered. She'd be damned if anyone made her talk when she didn't want to. Not even Jigen.

There was a flash of blue steel, and the feel of cold metal on her skin. Jigen had grabbed her gun from the bar and was pressing against her throat. He leaned in and spoke softly in her ear. "Wrong answer, angel," he said. There was a dangerous edge to his voice. "Let's try again: why are you still in Japan?"

Alexis hesitated. She swallowed hard and glanced down at Jigen's hand. If she strained, she could just catch a glimpse of the gun. She didn't think he'd hurt her, but still, her mind raced. What could she say that would satisfy him? "The Fabergé egg," she breathed at last. She wasn't lying. But it was obvious that she was keeping something back.

"Bullshit," Jigen said harshly. He gave her a push with his forearm, and she gasped. "Look at me." He slid the gun under her chin, lifting it gently, tenderly. "Look at me," he demanded.

Alexis looked up, her eyes locking onto his, barely visible under his hat. Jigen was only four inches taller, but he seemed to tower over her like a Tokyo skyscraper.

"You could have stolen that friggin' thing a dozen times over," Jigen said, studying her face. His expression was thoughtful, and he caressed her cheek with the muzzle of the gun. "There's more. I know there's more. Tell me."

Alexis glared at him. Why didn't she speak? No; now it was more than just words. Now, it was the principle of the thing. She had gone past 'stubborn' and was well into 'obstinate'.

"Why?" she countered, her eyes flashing. "What could be so important that you're willing to threaten me to hear it?" She struggled briefly, but it was pointless: he out-muscled her by a clear margin.

"I don't like unanswered questions," Jigen said, his voice low. "I want to know why you're still in Japan. Why you don't want to stay at the house." He watched her closely, alert to any shift in her expression, but there was none. She gave nothing away.

"You don't like unanswered questions?" Alexis said mockingly. "That is by far the weakest bloody excuse I've ever heard in my life."

"Watch it, angel; remember who has the gun." Jigen tapped the weapon lightly against her cheek for emphasis. "You've been on the verge of saying something to me ever since you caught up with us at the friggin' ballet." Jigen lowered his head, his beard brushing against her temple. "So tell me," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

Alexis nearly crumbled inside. "And make things worse?" she replied softly. "You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?" She turned her head away: away from the scent of cigarettes and whisky, away from the touch of his skin on hers. The memories were too strong. She ached for him, but she'd never say it; not in a hundred million years. But God, how she'd missed him!

Jigen pressed the Walther against her cheek, less gently this time. "Tell me," he insisted.

The shadow cast by the brim of his hat fell over her eyes, turning them an even darker blue. Alexis glanced sideways at his hand, holding her weapon. "My reasons are my own," she said hoarsely.

"Not anymore, sweetheart," Jigen growled. He slid the gun down her body, digging it into her ribs. She took a sharp breath. "Now tell me: why don't you want to stay here at the house?"

Alexis could feel herself on the verge of tears. She looked up at Jigen, her eyes pleading. "You just don't understand, do you?" she said, her voice trembling.

"No, I don't!" Jigen yelled. He pressed his arm even more firmly against her. Alexis flinched. "So friggin' tell me!"

Alexis spat out her reply: "Will you kill me if I don't?"

Jigen snarled. "I'm seriously considering it," he shot back.

"...promise?" Alexis said. Her voice was quiet, and she sagged under the weight of his arm.

Jigen blinked in surprise. He relaxed his hold on her, staring down into her eyes. "What the fuck is going on here?" he whispered.

A voice behind him said, "I might ask you the same question."


	17. Japanese Boys

Lupin folded his arms across his chest. Alexis couldn't make out his form, only the blindingly red jacket. Her vision was blurry, but she forced herself to keep her eyes open. Blinking would send tears cascading down her cheeks. She wanted to wipe them away before they fell.

Jigen lowered the gun and stepped away from Alexis. He casually put his hand behind his back and grunted at Lupin. His hat was low, his eyes unreadable.

Alexis smiled, but it was brittle. "All right, Lupin?" she said, turning slightly. She pressed her open eyes against her sleeve, watching the unshed tears soak into the stretchy black fabric.

Lupin nodded slowly. "Everything okay here?" he said. His arms were still crossed.

When Alexis looked back, her vision clear, she saw that Jigen had moved to the end of the bar. He put down her Walther and drank what was left of his Scotch. Alexis turned to Lupin and forced a note of cheerfulness into her voice.

"Yes, of course," she said. She took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. "We were just having a chat." The next smile she offered was more relaxed, more genuine.

"Uh-huh." Lupin did not lower his arms. He looked from Alexis to Jigen, and then back to Alexis.

Alexis leaned against the wall as though she actually wanted to be there. "So, any luck?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Best to change the topic. Quickly.

Lupin hesitated for a moment, then shrugged eloquently. He dropped his arms and stepped towards her. "We found what we were looking for," he said. Passing Jigen, he murmured softly, "Did you?" The gunman narrowed his eyes at Lupin and weighed a response, but the younger man was already settling himself on one of the ugly brown stools.

Alexis joined Lupin at the bar. "What's the verdict, then?" she asked, reaching for her glass and draining it.

Lupin snapped his fingers at Jigen. "Garçon! A drink for me and my friend," he said, grinning. As Jigen grudgingly poured drinks for the three of them, Lupin turned to Alexis. "It was chaos around there," he told her, nodding his thanks to Jigen and picking up the glass of Scotch. "Almost too easy to slip in and out. We probably didn't even need the disguises." Lupin sipped his drink and smacked his lips appreciatively. "The kid's definitely guilty though," he said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. He lit one and blew smoke at Jigen, who waved a hand in front of his face and scowled. Lupin grinned wickedly. "We found the drug, and even the cup he used. He definitely has it in for Goemon."

There was the sound of high-heeled shoes on the stairs. "And yet," Fujiko said, approaching the bar, "he's keeping the evidence." She was no longer in disguise, but sported a short-skirted, turquoise halter dress. At least, Alexis assumed that it hadn't been her disguise. "Kinda creepy if you ask me."

Jigen slouched against the back of the bar and took his whisky in one gulp. "Yeah, well nobody friggin' asked you," he muttered.

Fujiko stuck out her tongue at him, pulling down the skin under her eye with one finger.

"You're right, Fujiko," Alexis said. It was at least as much in agreement as it was to annoy Jigen. "That is really creepy."

Jigen shot her a dark look, then turned to Lupin. "But you saw the friggin' stuff, right?" he said, taking a cigarette from Lupin's pack and lighting up. "We can go public with this?"

Lupin looked up at the ceiling and pursed his lips. "Well," he drawled, "yeah. I suppose we could." He waved his empty glass at Jigen, who filled it with the last of the Scotch. "But it would be even better if we could catch him red-handed."

Fujiko grabbed a clean glass and frowned at the empty bottle on the bar. "You know what really gets me?" she said, reaching for a fresh bottle of bourbon and pouring herself a healthy measure. She glanced first at Jigen, then Lupin. "You two probably haven't noticed, being the jet-setting, theatre-going playboys that you are --"

Jigen snorted loudly.

"-- but there's been nothing on the news about this," Fujiko finished, capping the bottle and lifting her glass. She took a sip of her drink and nodded with satisfaction. "Nice stuff, Lupin. Who'd you have to kill to get this?"

Alexis stopped in mid-swallow and blinked at Fujiko. "What did you say?"

Lupin nodded. "She's right," he said, taking a puff and setting his cigarette in the ashtray. "I did notice actually, Fujicakes. I was just trying to figure out the angle." He narrowed his eyes and swallowed half his Scotch in one mouthful.

Alexis shook her head in confusion. "Angle?" She was beginning to feel like the odd man out. Maybe Jigen had been right; maybe she really didn't need to be here any longer. For ANY reason.

Lupin opened his mouth to reply, but Jigen interrupted. "Whenever those media vampires don't pick up on something like this," he said tightly, "it's because of a request from the friggin' International ..." His voice trailed off.

Lupin calmly sipped his drink. Fujiko turned towards him, and Jigen raised his head to stare at his partner. They both spoke at once.

"You don't think --" Fujiko began.

"Not again," Jigen grumbled, taking one more puff of his cigarette before grinding it into the bottom of the heavy glass ashtray.

Alexis held up her hands. "I'm sorry; I'm not with you." Jigen lifted the brim of his hat with his thumb and gave her a pointed look. She frowned, then gasped. "Zenigata?"

Lupin nodded cheerfully. "That's right!" he said, beaming.

Fujiko studied him through half-closed eyes. "You don't seem surprised," she said, taking another sip of her bourbon.

"That's because I'm not," Lupin said, finishing his drink and setting the glass on the bar. "I knew Pops was involved when we searched the place today."

Fujiko blinked at Lupin. "How did you know?" she asked.

Lupin grinned at her. "Would you believe that I could smell stale ramen?"

Jigen grabbed a fresh cigarette. "No," he said drily.

Lupin chuckled and reached for the bourbon. "This case must really be getting to him," the thief said, filling his glass. "He forgot his hat." He held the bottle out to Jigen, who accepted it and filled his own glass to the brim. "It was sitting on the table in the hall," Lupin added, taking a sip of his drink. "Hey, you're right," he said, smiling at Fujiko. "This is good."

Alexis looked sceptical. "You're basing all of this on a hat?" she said dubiously.

"He's been chasing me for years, Bluebird," Lupin said with a nostalgic sigh. "Trust me: I know that hat better than he does." He picked up his cigarette and took one final drag before extinguishing it.

Fujiko tapped one long, painted nail on the polished surface of the bar. When she spoke, her voice was thoughtful. "I've worked with Zenigata before --"

Jigen interrupted. "We know," he growled, blowing smoke in her direction.

Fujiko had the temerity not to blush. "-- and I could probably convince him to search the Wakahisa estate again," she continued, ignoring Jigen's scowl. "Maybe I could give him a nudge in the right direction."

Lupin leered at Fujiko. "You can give me a nudge anytime, Fujicakes." His tongue hung out of his mouth and he grabbed for her.

Fujiko wrinkled her nose and dodged his grasping hands. "I'd sooner kiss a skunk," she said primly, tossing her long, dark hair over one shoulder.

"We could probably arrange that," Jigen said, his voice rough from an afternoon of cigarettes and whisky. He coughed and drained his glass in one long swallow. "Hell, I'd pay real money to see that."

Fujiko glared at Jigen and opened her mouth to reply, but Lupin interrupted. "It's a good idea, Fujicakes," he said, cutting off any further conflict. "But not you. I'll do it." He finished his drink and set the glass on the bar.

Jigen stuck his cigarette between his lips and jammed his hands into his pockets. "Uh, boss?" he said, mumbling around the smoke. "This is Pops, remember? The guy who's been chasing you for years?"

Lupin grinned wickedly. "True," he said, "but I have my own angle this time."

Alexis had been sitting quietly throughout this exchange, her expression thoughtful. Without warning, she turned to Fujiko and said: "How much does the Wakahisa boy trust you?"

Fujiko looked surprised for a moment, then offered Alexis a wry smile. "He's a man, sweetie," she said, her voice turning sultry. "He thinks with his --"

Jigen growled softly and folded his arms across his chest.

"-- well, exCUSE me!" Fujiko rolled her eyes. "Let's just say he trusts me," she continued, turning to Alexis. "Why? What are you thinking?"

Alexis frowned slightly. Lupin and Fujiko were looking at her curiously, but Jigen seemed more fascinated by the label on the bottle of bourbon. "Is it common knowledge that Wakahisa has this rare flower?" Alexis asked. She brushed a strand of black hair from her eyes and looked up at Lupin.

Lupin nodded slowly. "Pretty common," he said, studying her. "Anyone who knows him, or who has any interest in botany, would probably know about it." A faint smile touched his lips. "I think I see where you're going with this."

Alexis returned his smile, and turned back to Fujiko. "If you let it slip to the boy that you really wanted to see the Tokyo Rose, do you think he'd offer to show it to you?" she asked hesitantly.

Jigen snorted rudely. "You don't ask for much, do you?"

Alexis pointedly ignored him.

Lupin nodded again, more firmly this time. "It's a bit of a long shot, but if he really wants to impress you, Fujicakes..." He let the idea hang in the air for a moment. "And if we could convince his father to be there when he shows it to you, it would go a long way to clearing Goemon of any involvement."

Fujiko laughed softly and finished her drink. "I could probably do that, but how do you find a hormone-filled university student on a Friday night?" She made a face.

"Did you see those tickets in his room?" Lupin asked her, raising one eyebrow. "They were to a Club Xanadu event."

Fujiko shrugged her beautifully-sculpted shoulders, her whole body shimmying with the motion. Lupin's eyes glazed over with lust. "Well, Xanadu is always packed on weekends, and it's mostly university students," Fujiko said, edging away from Lupin as his hands snaked out to touch her. "If he's there, it means he's a party animal, and THAT means he won't be hard to convince." She purred softly and looked over Lupin's head at Alexis. "The nice thing about Japanese boys," Fujiko said confidentially, "is that so many of them are really frustrated."

Lupin made another grab for her, nearly drooling on himself. Alexis stifled a giggle.

Jigen smacked Lupin across the head with an open hand. "Do you go out of your way to prove her friggin' point?" he grumbled, as Lupin tried desperately to keep his balance on the bar stool.

Fujiko smiled triumphantly at Jigen. "It just comes naturally," she assured him.

Jigen growled, deep in his throat. "Have some friggin' self-respect, Lupin," he snarled, stabbing his latest cigarette into the ashtray.

"You don't ask for much, do you?" Fujiko shot back. It was a blatant dig, and everyone knew it. The girls were closing ranks.

"What do you say then, Fujiko?" Alexis asked. They were both ignoring the boys, now. "Will you do it?"

Fujiko tossed her hair again and grinned mischievously. "Why not?" she said, her brown eyes twinkling. "Lupin's already paid for my services; you might as well get the deluxe package."

"Smashing." Alexis stood up, taking her Walther from the bar and slipping it casually into its holster. "Let's get you ready for a little sharking, shall we?" She smiled at Fujiko as they headed for the stairs.

"I can help!" Lupin called after them, rising from his stool. Jigen rolled his eyes in disgust and lowered the brim of his hat over his face.

Alexis and Fujiko both turned and looked balefully at Lupin.

"...or I can stay here with Jigen and have another drink," Lupin suggested, sitting down again.

Fujiko turned up her nose and headed for the stairs. Alexis hesitated, then glanced in Jigen's direction. The gunman missed it, but Lupin did not. He tilted his head to one side and watched Alexis curiously. Her eyes were sad; she made no effort to hide it. For a moment, she looked as though she were about to speak. Instead, she slowly turned and followed Fujiko upstairs.

Lupin watched them leave before turning to Jigen.

"So," Lupin said, tapping a finger against the side of his empty glass. "Did you?"

Jigen frowned and poured them each a generous measure. "Did I what?" he asked.

"Get what you wanted from her," Lupin said, picking up his drink and taking a sip.

Jigen swallowed his bourbon in one draught. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked. His hand trembled slightly as he refilled his glass.

Lupin rested his elbows on the padded edge of the bar and looked up at his friend. "Come on, Jigen," he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "She obviously doesn't want to be here at the house. Did you find out why?" He watched Jigen over the rim of his glass as he drank.

Jigen shook his head and rubbed one hand over his beard, feeling the rough hairs scrape against his palm. "She wouldn't say," he muttered.

"Mm." Lupin sipped his drink again. "You know, direct questions don't always yield direct answers," he said idly. "Even at gunpoint." Jigen's head jerked up, and he looked sharply at Lupin. "Sometimes you have to take a more roundabout way," the thief added, lifting both eyebrows meaningfully.

Jigen reached out and picked up the pack of Gauloises Blond that Alexis had left behind, turning it over in his hands. He frowned at it. Lupin knew far more than he was letting on, that much was clear. "Spit it out, pal," Jigen said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up. "I'm not in the mood for a friggin' guessing game."

Lupin chuckled softly. "I'd rather you find out for yourself," he said. He held up one hand to stave off Jigen's protest. "But I'll point you in the right direction." He folded down all but his index finger, then pointed it towards the back of the house. Towards Alexis' room. "It's amazing the things you can find just lying around in peoples' drawers," Lupin added. He picked up his bourbon and sipped innocently at it, as Jigen gazed pensively at the ceiling.

They finished their drinks to the distant sound of feminine voices in an upstairs room.


	18. Club Xanadu

Even as early as ten o'clock at night, the Shibuya district was jammed shoulder-to-shoulder with club-hoppers. Lupin and Fujiko wove their way between pedestrians, party-goers, and hawkers. Once or twice, they lost each other in the mass of bodies, but between Lupin's bright red jacket and Fujiko's bright red mini-dress, it wasn't hard for them to find each other again.

"Is it always so crowded down here?" Lupin asked, as Fujiko squeezed between a trio of squealing girls, and made her way back to his side. He stared at the people around them. "I don't remember it being this busy."

Fujiko laughed lightly and tossed her elegantly-braided hair over her shoulder. "Things have changed in the last fifteen years, haven't they, Lupin?" she said, smiling mischievously at him. Her Prada shoes clacked on the pavement as they approached Club Xanadu. "Shibuya has definitely grown up."

Lupin shook his head and ran one hand over his hair. "Am I really that old?" he asked petulantly.

Fujiko ignored him. Instead, she pulled him past the line of people that snaked out the club door and along the sidewalk. At the front of the line, she pulled a VIP pass from her cleavage.

Lupin boggled at her. "Where did you get that?" He wasn't sure whether to stare at the pass, or her breasts.

"Hey, a girl's gotta have _some _secrets, doesn't she?" Fujiko threw him a wink. "Just be glad I do have it, otherwise we'd be standing out here for the next three weeks." She readjusted her dress, pulling down her top and hitching up her skirt. A few more inches of leg certainly wouldn't hurt her chances of getting in. She stepped up to the bouncer at the door and flashed her pass.

He was massive. His arms were bigger than Fujiko's thighs, his muscles bulging beneath the short sleeves of his black T-shirt. They gave each other the once-over, neither of them trying to hide the fact. Fujiko noticed the black jeans, thick legs, muscular chest. The bouncer noticed tits, ass, and legs.

"Go on in," he rumbled, and Fujiko dimpled at him. She passed through the doors and disappeared into the club. Lupin moved to follow her, but a meaty hand slammed into his chest.

"Back of the line, pal." The bouncer's voice was like a small thunderstorm in Lupin's ear. The thief grumbled and stuffed his hands in his pockets, then slouched away, glaring over his shoulder. Well, it wasn't as though Fujiko really needed him there; she knew what to do, and could work her magic just as well without him watching over her. Still, it was the principle of the thing.

It was easy enough to find an alternate entrance. There was always one moron who'd leave a window open.

Fujiko was drinking at the bar; Lupin picked out the red dress almost immediately. He came up to her from behind.

"Buy you a drink, beautiful?" he murmured in her ear.

Fujiko turned around and narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, it's _you_," she said tightly. "Come to spy on me?"

Lupin held one hand to his heart. His pale skin stood out in sharp relief against his dark blue shirt.

"_Moi_?" he said with mock distress. "Spy on you? Never." He snapped his finger at a bartender, who nodded and held up a hand. "I just wanted to buy you a drink." Lupin grinned wolfishly at Fujiko, who rolled her eyes and finished her martini.

"Look," she said, pointing discretely. She nearly had to yell to be heard over the sound of the live band. "Over there." Lupin craned his neck. Katsu and three of his friends were dancing over by the stage. Actually, 'dancing' might have been a little generous, Lupin thought. It wasn't as though you could really dance to Gorgon.

"Yeah, I see 'em," Lupin said. The music was so loud now, he could barely hear himself speak. "Do your thing, Fujicakes!" He gave her a pat on the bum and she frowned at him before moving off into the crowd.

People parted for her. Who wouldn't? Prada shoes, Versace dress, and a diamond pendant from Tiffany's. She looked stunning, and she knew it. Fujiko dropped her martini glass on a nearby table and pursed her lips. She ran down a checklist in her mind: hair, makeup, cleavage, legs, shoes. Everything was perfect. Fujiko smiled inwardly, then plastered a surprised look on her face and bounced up to Katsu.

"Wakahisa-san!" she squealed, clapping her hands together. "Is that really you?"

Katsu turned and looked at her, his eyes half-closed. He was obviously just this side of plastered.

"Mine-chan!" he cried. Yeah, he was plastered, all right. He stepped back and spread his hands in a gesture of appreciation. One of them held an empty beer bottle. "You look so good tonight!"

Fujiko blushed, which wasn't difficult, given the heat inside the club. "Thank you," she replied, as sweetly as she could while yelling at the top of her lungs. Every time she took a new breath, her breasts heaved. Katsu's friends were staring at her with undisguised amazement. "You look pretty good, too." It was true. Katsu was wearing all black tonight, and it suited him.

The music wasn't slowing down any. "Lemme introduce my friends," Katsu yelled. His voice was cracking; it was obvious that he'd soon tear his vocal chords if he wasn't careful. Pointing to each of his friends in turn, he rattled off their names. "This is Takahashi-kun, Obata-kun, and little Kazuhiko-chan!" He squeezed Kazuhiko's cheek with his free hand, and the others laughed uproariously. It was starting to look as though Katsu wasn't the only one in the group who was smashed.

Kazuhiko rolled his eyes and grinned weakly at Fujiko, who flashed him a sympathetic smile. "_Hajimemashite_," she said, bowing slightly. It was a calculated move, designed to give the boys a generous glimpse of her cleavage. She looked down at herself and feigned shock and embarrassment. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she cried, holding one delicate hand to her chest. Her blush deepened.

All four boys stared at her. More appropriately, they stared at her breasts. It gave her the opportunity to study them all. Good little Japanese boys, Fujiko decided. Black chinos, black shoes, and white button-down shirts with the tails hanging out. Their parents probably didn't know where they were, or what they were doing. Typical, really.

Finally, Katsu found his voice again.

"Everybody," he hollered, as the band segued into another bone-jarring number, "this is the most beautiful girl in the world, Mine Fujiko." Katsu beamed at her. The others nodded, their 'hellos' and 'nice to meet yous' mixing together and floating away over the crowd. Katsu leaned in, to speak loudly in Fujiko's ear. "You look great tonight, Mine-chan!"

Fujiko giggled vapidly, all the while trying to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. "You already said that, Wakahisa-san," she replied.

Katsu shook his head vigorously, sweat flying from his hair. He and his friends had obviously been here a while. "No, no, no," he said. "Katsu! You must call me Katsu!" He beamed at Fujiko, whose smile changed from vacuous to predatory. He was too drunk to notice. Instead, Katsu looked around at his friends and seemed to hit upon a brilliant idea. "Hey, you wanna join us for a drink, Mine-chan?" he asked her. His voice was growing more hoarse by the moment. Fujiko chose to be sympathetic, rather than draw it out. She had what she wanted, anyway.

"I'd really like that!" she yelled above the harsh sounds of the heavy metal band. Katsu cheered wildly and the five of them moved over to a high table. They crowded around it. The boys played 'Rock, Paper, Scissors' to determine who would buy the next round. Kazuhiko was the unlucky 'winner'. He grumbled about his dwindling lack of funds as he wandered away from the table.

"Kazu-kun always whines about money!" Katsu yelled in Fujiko's ear. "He thinks he's going to strike it rich by becoming a _manga-ka_!" Everyone around the table laughed. It was obviously a long-standing joke.

The music changed to something fast and upbeat, and Fujiko clapped her hands with forced enthusiasm. "Oh, I love this song!" she said. She shimmied her shoulders to the music, and the boys stared at her jiggling breasts. Katsu grinned and managed to climb off his chair without falling.

"Would you like to dance, Mine-chan?" he asked her. His smile was bright, his nose and cheeks red from the effects of the alcohol. Fujiko wondered how much he'd already had this evening. She fluttered her lashes at him.

"You're such a gentleman, Katsu-san," she replied, slipping off her stool. "I'd love to!" Together, they moved towards the crowded dance floor, as Katsu's friends watched enviously from their places round the table. They were still staring at the couple when Kazuhiko returned with four beers and a martini. He set the drinks on the table and sat down on an empty stool, his mouth hanging open as he watched Fujiko move her curvaceous body to the music's driving rhythm.

Kazuhiko took a swig of his beer. "Damn," he muttered, though his friends couldn't have heard him over the sound of the band. "She's got a nice rack. I wonder where he found her."


	19. Old Letters

The safe house library was pleasantly cool. The ceiling fan whirred softly overhead as Alexis settled into an overstuffed chair and opened a massive, illustrated copy of Alice In Wonderland. She had been surprised to find it tucked away in one of the bookcases. Children's stories didn't seem like Lupin's style.

It wasn't that she particularly wanted to read, but the library was the one place where Jigen never set foot. Not because he was illiterate -- far from it -- but because he wasn't allowed to smoke here. It settled into the books, Fujiko had said, in her famous 'I want my way' tone. Smoke-scented books were 'icky'.

Privately, Alexis agreed, but she wasn't about to make a fuss. Besides, it wasn't _her _collection. Still, Fujiko always had her way, at least where Lupin was concerned. Jigen grumpily agreed to keep his cigarettes out of the library. Given how much he smoked, however, it wasn't surprising that he never entered the room.

Jigen's display of force in the basement earlier that evening had left its mark: Alexis was hiding from him, especially now that Fujiko and Lupin were out. Without their buffering presence, Alexis knew she wouldn't be able to face him. She wasn't sure if she was hurt, angry, or scared; whatever she felt, it was enough to make her keep her distance. So the library door stayed shut, and she remained curled up with her book.

This was working to Jigen's advantage. With a closed door between him and Alexis, he could apply himself to Lupin's 'observation'. The thief was right: it was amazing what you could find lying around in someone's drawers.

Alexis had brought very little to Japan, which surprised Jigen somewhat. Perhaps he was used to Fujiko's annoying habit of filling up every available closet with designer clothes, but Alexis' collection of monochrome sweaters and slacks seemed excessively modest. The five-drawer white bureau in her room wasn't even half full.

Jigen ran his calloused hands over her clothes. Wool slacks, cotton shirts, and the outline of a Walther P99, slipped between two cashmere sweaters. Jigen drew back as though he'd been bitten and slammed the dresser closed. He didn't want to be reminded of what he'd done with that gun.

Pushing the memory of the last few hours out of his head, he hastily moved to the last drawer. Opening it revealed a pair of high-heeled shoes and a soft, velvety scarf. Jigen reached down, pulling the scarf from the drawer, watching it unravel like a ribbon of night. The heady scent of sandalwood, patchouli, and cedar filled the room, and Jigen inhaled deeply. It was a familiar smell. It was pure Alexis.

As he lifted the scarf to his face, a small bundle fell into his lap. It was a stack of letters, tied with a wide, blue ribbon. Jigen draped the velveteen scarf around his neck, then sat on the bed and untied the satin ribbon with trembling hands.

There were perhaps twenty or twenty five envelopes in the bundle. Some had tea stains on them, some were smudged with chocolate, but all of them bore a wax seal, pressed with the image of a bullfinch. The seals were all broken. On the front of each envelope, Jigen found his name written in a small, neat hand.

The first letter in the pile was dated over a year ago, the day Jigen had left London: the day he'd left Alexis. As he unfolded the thick, cream-coloured paper and read her scathing words, Jigen could feel the venom flowing from the page.

_Jigen,_

_When I returned to the hotel tonight, you were gone. I ought  
to have expected this, but stupidly, I didn't. How could you  
be so bloody thoughtless? No word, no message, not even 'sod  
off and die' scribbled on a scrap of paper and slipped under  
the door. I had no idea this was coming. You'll never have  
this letter, but I'll say this anyway: you've hurt me, you  
sodding prick. You've hurt me more than I can tell you._

It went on in this vein for several pages, with Alexis denouncing him as a coward, a liar, and worse. Jigen's chest tightened as guilt gripped his heart, amplified by his drunken state. He'd had no idea that she'd been so affected by his sudden departure. He forced himself to read the rest of the letter, then set it aside and turned to the next one in the pile.

It was dated three months after the first. Alexis had calmed substantially towards him: there was no name-calling, no recriminations, no vitriol. This letter -- and all the ones that followed -- appeared to be written on a bi-weekly basis, and spoke mostly of day-to-day events.

'One of the girls at the shop insists on smoking American cigarettes'; 'I bought a new set of darts today, but I can't bring myself to get rid of the old ones'; 'I spoke to Fujiko last night; she hasn't seen you or Lupin in weeks. I hope you're both all right'. It was ordinary stuff, and Jigen skimmed over most of it without really paying attention.

The next letter to catch his eye was dated the middle of March. It was short: a mere three lines. The ink was smudged in places, as though rain had fallen onto it. Or tears.

_Jigen,_

_I saw a man in a black fedora today, at the Place des  
Victoires. I could have sworn it was you, but I was  
distracted, and when I turned back to the square, he  
was gone._

_I... I miss you, Daisuke._

Jigen ran his fingers over the smudges and swallowed thickly. It _had _been him. He had been in Rennes on a job: a job he'd cancelled at the last minute. Instead, he had found himself on the road to Paris. He'd entered the city with the purpose of finding Alexis, but lost his nerve before he'd had a chance to see her.

The last letter in the pile, written exactly one year from the day he left London, was apologetic and tender, if slightly ambiguous:

_Jigen,_

_It's taken me a year, but I think finally understand what happened  
to you that day in London. I don't blame you anymore; you were  
just trying to sort things out, and I wasn't helping._

_It was too much, too soon. Naples and New Orleans: they both  
happened so fast. London probably reminded you of that. But  
it wasn't until I lost your company for so long that I was able  
to see what I was doing. Please forgive me. I never meant to  
demand more of you than you were prepared to give. I never  
meant to push you away._

_I will never forget you, Daisuke Jigen. Perhaps someday, I will  
have the opportunity to apologise in person. But even if we never  
meet again, you will always have a place in my heart._

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jigen knew that Alexis might come into the room at any moment. He shouldn't stay here, surrounded by her private thoughts, even if they were addressed to him. Still, he remained sitting on her bed, clutching that last letter, reading it over again. He could almost hear her voice in his head, speaking the words. It was a kind letter, and forgiving, but it told him nothing about how she felt now, or why she was still in Japan, or why she didn't want to be here at the safe house.

Rereading the letter for the third time, Jigen realised that he couldn't put it back with the others. It was a piece of her, something tangible and concrete, and he wanted it. He refolded the letter, then picked up the matching envelope and stuffed them both into his jacket pocket. Alexis was sure to notice the theft, but the massive amount of whisky Jigen had consumed earlier that evening blinded him to the very idea.

Jigen hastily gathered the other letters, stacking them in a messy pile and wrapping the blue satin ribbon around them. His hands were shaking too badly; he couldn't retie the bow. Instead, he worked a very simple granny knot and stuffed the packet back into the bottom drawer. He briefly considered keeping Alexis' scarf, but even his alcohol-soaked brain knew that something so large would be missed.

Draping the velvety scarf haphazardly over the letters, Jigen closed the dresser, then headed unsteadily from the room. Had he been a little more sober, he'd have realised that he'd done a poor job of covering his tracks. Instead, all he could think about was finding a fresh bottle of Scotch and drinking himself into oblivion.


	20. Do You Like Flowers?

Dance, drink; drink, dance.

The evening passed in this fashion until around midnight. Fujiko was holding her own with the boys: she could drink with the best of them and still keep going. In spite of her four or five martinis, she was certainly sober enough to remember why she was there.

At half-past twelve, the heavy metal band left the stage, and the DJ started spinning dance tunes. While Takahashi, Obata, and Kazuhiko moved with the crowd towards the departing musicians to obtain autographs, Fujiko pulled Katsu aside.

"This has been so much fun, Katsu-san," she said. It was a flat-out lie. Fujiko's ears were ringing, she had a snag in her new stockings, and her feet were killing her. At least she didn't have to shout quite as loudly in order to be heard over the DJ's selections. "I'm so sorry I have to leave." Fujiko offered a cute little pout, and Katsu's eyes widened in dismay.

"You're going so soon?" he asked, blinking at her. He looked down at what must have been his fifteenth beer. "But there's so much fun still to be had!"

Any more fun would kill him, Fujiko thought to herself. She smiled past her derision and bowed deeply to him. "I'm so sorry," she said sweetly, "but I promised my little brother that I'd take him to the Koishikawa Botanical Gardens tomorrow." She straightened and looked Katsu in the eye, her smile becoming apologetic. "He likes the flowers, you see."

Katsu seemed to brighten. "Do you like flowers, Mine-chan?" he asked, as they walked to the door together.

"Oh, yes," Fujiko said, her eyes sparkling. "Some of them are so pretty." She nodded her thanks to the bouncer who opened the door for them. The sky was cloudy, but it was a surprisingly warm evening, and Fujiko was glad of it: she hadn't bothered to bring a wrap.

Katsu puffed up a bit, sticking out his chest. "My father has a lot of plants and flowers," he said proudly, as they stepped out onto the street.

Fujiko acted surprised, as though she hadn't considered the fact until this very moment. "Oh, that's right!" she said, clapping her hands. "Doesn't he own that really rare flower? The Tokyo Rose?"

Katsu nodded, a little unsteadily. "Yes," he said, covering his mouth to hide a burp. Even plastered, he knew enough to mind his manners around a woman. "It's not so much to look at, though," he added, wrinkling his nose.

"I'd love to see it someday," Fujiko said wistfully. She clasped her hands behind her back and looked up at Katsu with wide eyes. "I hear it's beautiful, especially when it blooms."

Katsu hiccoughed. "I might be able to arrange something," he said, taking a sip of his beer. He looked around the street blankly and seemed to suddenly realise that they were no longer inside the club.

"Really?" Fujiko's voice was breathy, and she gazed at him with feigned admiration. "Oh, _would _you? I'd love to see it!"

"It's in storage right now," Katsu said. He smiled broadly at her. "But if you have some time tomorrow night..."

Fujiko nodded vigorously, her eyes gleaming triumphantly. "Oh, yes, Katsu! I'd really like that." She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Where can I meet you?"

Katsu looked thoughtfully out over the street. "I can pick you up," he suggested, his words slurring slightly. He took another swig of beer. "Where do you live?"

For a moment, Fujiko blanked. She couldn't give him directions to Lupin's safe house, and she no longer rented a flat here in Tokyo. Where else --?

"I'm actually staying at the Keio Plaza," she said smoothly, thankful that she'd remembered the name of Alexis' hotel here in Tokyo. "At least until I find a place of my own."

Even in his alcoholic stupor, Katsu was bright enough to catch the inconsistency in Fujiko's story. "You're not staying with your family?" he asked, frowning at her.

Fujiko wrinkled her nose. "Are you kidding me?" she said, laughing. "My parents are the _last _people I want to live with, you know?" She gave him her 'we're in this together' smile, and he fell for it.

"I know exactly how you feel," Katsu replied with a chuckle. He hiccoughed again and mumbled an apology. "I will come to the hotel, then," he said at last. "We can go for dinner first if you like?"

"That would be wonderful, Katsu-san!" Fujiko gushed. "I have a few things to do in the early evening; is nine o'clock all right?" She smiled hopefully. Better that she set the time; it would be easier to control things that way.

Katsu nodded eagerly, nearly spilling what was left of his beer. "I will make reservations," he said, beaming stupidly.

Fujiko pulled a lip liner from somewhere between her breasts while Katsu gaped at her. "Call me tomorrow," she said, reaching for his unresisting hand. She scribbled her name, cell phone number, and the time of their date on the back of his hand. "Don't you forget, now!" she teased, capping the lip liner and sliding it back into her cleavage.

"I could not possibly forget you, Mine-chan," Katsu said, gazing dreamily at her. He swayed slightly on his feet.

Blushing prettily, Fujiko looked down at her feet. "You're so sweet, Katsu-san," she said. Touching his shoulder, she leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow then!" She stepped away and waved over her shoulder as she walked up the street. "Bai bai!" Her last backwards glance showed Katsu smiling drunkenly at the back of his hand and staggering back into the club.

Fujiko shuddered slightly and allowed her cheerful façade to drop. She was tired and hungry and her clothes smelled like beer and cigarettes. And to think she'd ever wondered why she didn't go clubbing more often.

A yellow Roadster drove up alongside her as she strolled down the sidewalk.

"Going my way, baby?"

Fujiko rolled her eyes and slipped into the car beside Lupin. "God," she said, unclasping her braid and running her fingers through her hair. "I thought I'd never get away from him."

Lupin chuckled as they drove out of the Shibuya district. "How did it go?" he asked, paying more attention to Fujiko's cleavage than to the road.

Fujiko shot out her arm and smacked Lupin in the chest with the back of her hand. He winced and coughed as she replied. "Well, I spent the night with a group of drooling college students," she said drily, "and I've gone deaf in one ear."

"Aw, poor baby." Lupin gripped the wheel with his left hand and stretched out his right arm to drape it over Fujiko's shoulders. Even in the confines of the front seat, she managed to avoid him. He sighed. "I meant about the flower," he continued, returning his right hand to the steering wheel.

"I know what you meant," Fujiko said. She wrinkled her nose, then sniffed her hands and recoiled in horror. "Uwai! I'll never get the smell of beer out of my hair!"

Lupin hovered on the edge of frustration. He put up with a lot from her, but sometimes Fujiko could really push his buttons. He took a deep breath and counted to ten while the love of his life continued to whine about the state of her hair and clothes. "The flower?" Lupin said, when he was finally able to get a word in edgewise.

Fujiko waved dismissively. "Yes, yes," she said shortly, pulling down the sun visor and checking her makeup in the built-in mirror. "We're meeting tomorrow night at nine." She dipped into her cleavage and brought out her lip liner. "I told him I was staying at Alexis' hotel," she said calmly, using the liner to touch up the edges of her full lips. Pleased with the results, she smiled at herself in the mirror.

Lupin raised one eyebrow. "He's picking you up?" There was a hint of jealousy in his voice, and his tone grew petulant. "You never let _me _pick you up." He grumbled wordlessly under his breath and pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

The car leapt forward, and Fujiko squealed in surprise. "Oh, don't be childish, Lupin," she said, her voice tinged with disgust. They were picking up speed now, heading out of Tokyo; the wind whipped Fujiko's dark brown hair around her face. "What was I supposed to say?" she demanded.

Lupin glanced over his shoulder as he changed lanes, then looked back at Fujiko. His lower lip stuck out in an unattractive pout. "I suppose," he said slowly. His unhappiness was apparent, but it didn't seem to affect Fujiko in the least.

"We're going for dinner first," she continued, tucking her hair behind her ears, "and then he's going to take me to see the Rose." She pushed up the sun visor and folded her arms across her chest against the chill night wind.

Lupin gasped, briefly losing control of the car. Fujiko cried out as he wrestled it back to the road. "You're going for dinner?" he whined. He looked on the verge of tears. "But- but you hardly know him!" His pout grew more pronounced, and he slouched down in the driver's seat.

Fujiko was singularly unsympathetic. "It was the only way to get him to show me the stupid plant!" she snapped. She turned around and peered into the back of the car. "Isn't there a blanket or something in here?" she continued. "I'm freezing."

"You hardly ever let _me _take you to dinner," Lupin grumbled, as Fujiko pulled an ugly tartan blanket from the floor of the back seat.

"It's all for a good cause, Lupin," she said, wrapping the worn blanket tightly around her shoulders. She smiled slyly, then leaned over and gave Lupin a peck on the cheek. "Just keep reminding yourself of that," she added, settling comfortably back into her seat.

Lupin said nothing. He merely sulked all the way back to the safe house.


	21. Watching the Clock

Zenigata's morning had been busy -- not to be confused with 'productive'.

Talking to the Wakahisas' priest had been about as pointless as putting wheels on a tomato. The old man was unable to say where he'd met Ishikawa, or how he'd contacted the samurai, or even when they would be seeing each other again. Zenigata suspected that the monk was hiding something, but there was little he could do about it apart from obtaining a warrant to search the temple. And that was something the inspector was hoping to postpone for as long as possible. It was bad Karma.

At around nine, Zenigata had returned to the Wakahisa estate. He was willingly granted the use of a small room off the main corridor, where he spent the balance of the morning interviewing each and every member of Wakahisa's staff. To a man, they were unable to tell him anything new, anything useful. Zenigata wondered if this would be his last case with INTERPOL. If he couldn't find a simple flower... Well, the consequences didn't bear considering.

One last turn around the house, he decided, and then he would go back to the office and admit defeat.

It didn't take long. There didn't appear to be anything left to look at, or to find. Zenigata sighed heavily, crushing his hat in both hands. He glanced at the granddaughter clock in the hall as he trudged towards the front door. He was almost to the exit before he realised what he'd just seen. He hurried back to the clock and stared at it, his eyes narrowed in thought.

He was still staring at it when Suki came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on her apron. "Inspector?" she murmured, coming up behind him. "Can I help you with something?"

Zenigata nodded slowly. "This clock," he said, pointing at it. "How long has it been like this?"

Suki looked at the clock. Her pretty black eyes and delicate features registered only confusion. "I'm sorry, sir?" she said. "Like what?"

"Well, it's stopped." Zenigata looked over his shoulder at Suki. Her eyes widened in surprise and dismay.

"Oh!" She gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. "I am so sorry, inspector." She reached out to open the clock case, but Zenigata gently pushed her hands away.

"What time would you say this clock stopped?" he asked thoughtfully. "Eleven twenty-three? Eleven twenty-four?" Zenigata checked his wristwatch. "And it is currently twelve fifteen," he added. "Did the clock stop this morning?"

Suki shook her head, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment. It was one of the few times Zenigata had seen her without a smile on her lips. "I'm afraid not, sir," she said, shuffling her feet and wringing her hands. "It's been a few days. I just haven't had the chance to wind it." She picked at the hem of her apron, nervously undoing the stitching.

Zenigata turned to the girl, his eyes wide. He took her gently by the shoulders and looked down at her. "When did it stop?" he asked.

Suki bit her lip, trying to recall the last time she had heard the clock chime. Lost in thought, she stared blankly at Zenigata's ugly brown tie. Finally, it came to her. Her face brightened somewhat as she replied.

"It must have been Tuesday night," she said, nodding firmly.

Zenigata furrowed his brow. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Completely," was the prompt reply. "The staff goes to bed quite early," Suki added, in response to Zenigata's dubious look. "Around nine in the evening. We usually rise an hour before Wakahisa-san, at four o'clock." She looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. "I heard the chimes before I went to bed," she said, "but I can't recall hearing them Wednesday morning while I was making breakfast." Suki shrugged helplessly at the inspector. "I'm sorry I can't tell you anything more than that."

Zenigata nodded again. "You have been very helpful," he said, awkwardly patting her shoulder. He turned her around, pointing her towards the kitchen. "Please ensure that no one winds this clock today," he said politely.

Suki glanced at him over her shoulder, nodding weakly. She was thoroughly confused. "Of course, sir," she replied. "Whatever you say." She blinked and returned to the kitchen.

Zenigata stayed in the hall, studying the clock without really seeing it. Behind him, he could hear a telephone ringing, its sound muted by the thoughts racing through his mind. He was so deep in concentration that Suki had to call for him twice.

"Excuse me, inspector," she repeated, approaching him and bowing slightly. "There is a telephone call for you."

Zenigata looked puzzled. "For me?" he asked, cramming his hat onto his head. "Here?"

"Yes, sir," Suki said, smiling at him. "Please follow me." She led him to Wakahisa's empty study and pointed to the phone that sat on her employer's desk. "You may take the call in here, sir," she said.

"Thank you," Zenigata replied. He waited until Suki had left the room before picking up the receiver and bringing it to his ear. "This is Inspector Zenigata," he said into the phone.

The voice on the other end was annoyingly perky. "Hiya, Pops!"

Zenigata's eyes widened. "_Lupin_!?" he spluttered.

"That's right!" Lupin said brightly. "How's my favourite INTERPOL agent today?"

Zenigata's knuckles turned white as he gripped the receiver. "Lupin, you're under arrest!" he barked. "Where are you? How did you get this number?"

Lupin tsked softly. "Now, now, Pops," he said smoothly. "You don't really expect me to give up that easily, do you?"

"You .. you .. _gah_!" Zenigata tore off his hat and threw it to the ground. His face started to turn purple, and he seemed to be on the verge of apoplexy.

"Hey, take a deep breath, Old Man," Lupin said. He sounded worried. "You're going to burst something!"

Zenigata narrowed his eyes and peered around the room. Could Lupin be watching him right now? How had the thief known where he'd be? The inspector took several huffing breaths and panted into the phone, "What .. do .. you .. want?"

Lupin chuckled. "Actually, it's what _you _want," he corrected. "You want to know who stole the Tokyo Rose."

Zenigata frowned deeply and growled into the phone. "You've been talking to Ishikawa," he said, pacing back and forth in front of Wakahisa's huge mahogany desk.

"That's right!" There was a tapping noise on the line, as though Lupin were rapping a pen against the mouthpiece. "He's taking a bit of a vacation right now, but he'll be back at the estate in another day or so. In the meantime," Lupin continued, "I have a little information for you."

"The only thing I want to hear from you, Lupin, is 'I surrender'!" Zenigata bent down and snatched his hat from the floor. He jammed it onto his head.

Lupin laughed lightly. "Sorry, Pops," he said. "No can do." Zenigata could hear the grin in his voice. "But I _can _tell you that if you search Katsu-kun's room, you'll find some _very _interesting items."

Zenigata glanced over his shoulder, into the hallway. He could just see the door to Katsu's room. It was closed.

"You'll probably want to pay particular attention to a certain spot that's close to the outside wall," Lupin continued. "Those tatami are hiding more than just the floor, you know."

Zenigata stared down at the phone. "Why are you telling me this?" he demanded, pressing the receiver hard against his ear.

"Call it a vested interest in Goemon's future," Lupin said darkly. His tone had changed from cheerful to bitter. "When you find what you're looking for, go back to the field office. I'll call you there in an hour."

"Wait!" Zenigata said. "How will I know when I've found it?"

Lupin laughed; he was back to his old, joking self. "You'll know, Pops," he said, almost affectionately. "I have complete faith in you." There was a click on the line as Lupin broke the connection.

"Wait!" Zenigata shouted again, but he was talking to dead air. He glared at the receiver in his hand, then slammed it down onto the cradle, silently cursing himself for not tracing the call. Glancing at his watch, he did some quick calculations. If he was to reach the precinct inside of an hour, he'd better hurry.

Stepping into the hallway, he waved wildly at Suki, who was just emerging from the kitchen. "Excuse me?" Zenigata said, as the maid approached. "I'm sorry to take up so much of your time, but would you mind if I had another look inside the children's rooms?" He grinned sheepishly.

Suki nodded agreeably. "Of course, inspector," she said, gesturing expansively. "Please, take all the time you need." With a little bow, she turned and headed into the courtyard.

Zenigata rubbed his hands together and opened the door to Katsu's room. Sliding it closed behind him, he moved towards the outside wall, tapping his foot against the floor every few inches. In one corner of the room, a board seemed to shift slightly under his probing. Zenigata fell to his knees and lifted the tatami.

There was a loose plank in the floor. The inspector pressed firmly on one end, causing the other to raise slightly. Sliding his fingers under the board, Zenigata lifted it as far as it would go. Reaching around under the floor with his free hand, his fingers brushed against what felt like a block of wood. He groped for it, withdrew it from its hiding spot, and was astonished to find himself in possession of a beautifully-carved, cherry-wood box. It was small, perhaps four inches by six, fitted with a bronze clasp and hinges. The top was inlaid with jade.

Zenigata replaced the wooden board and smoothed the tatami mat over it. Standing up, the box in one hand, he looked critically at the floor. It appeared to be undisturbed; it would certainly pass a cursory inspection, at any rate. The inspector nodded with satisfaction, slid the box under his trenchcoat, and left the room.

The police officer who sat in the squad car was asleep behind the wheel, his head tilted back, a stream of saliva trailing down one side of his chin. His cap was lowered over his face, and the sun visor was down, both working together to ensure some degree of protection from the afternoon sun. Zenigata shook his head in disgust, then slid into the passenger seat and leaned on the horn.

"Wha -!?" The officer jerked forward, banging his head on the sun visor. His cap flew off and landed on top of the box in Zenigata's lap. "Uh, I'm sorry, sir!" the officer said, his cheeks reddening. He grabbed his cap. "I was just -- I mean, my wife is pregnant, and I -- well, it was a late night," he finished lamely.

Zenigata tapped his foot impatiently. "Yes, yes," he said shortly. "Just drive, will you? And hurry!"

The officer nodded eagerly, desperate to make up for his embarrassing faux pas. It took him a moment to get his bearings, but within the hour, they were pulling into the Tokyo INTERPOL field office. Zenigata jumped out of the car before it had even stopped moving. He raced into the building, ran up the stairs, and skidded into his temporary office just in time to hear the phone ringing. Picking up the receiver, he panted heavily into the mouthpiece. "In.. spec.. tor.. Zeni.. gata," he gasped.

"Well done, Pops!" Lupin paused for a moment to allow the inspector to catch his breath. "You made it back to the office in time, so I guess you found what you were looking for."

Zenigata took several deep breaths and threw himself into his wooden swivel chair, setting his prize on the desk. "What's with the box?" he asked, peering at it from various angles. Opening it, he was surprised to find a small ceramic cup wrapped in purple silk, and a dark brown bottle, half-filled with liquid. "What is all this stuff?" he added, almost to himself.

"You've got a cup there, right? And a little flask?"

Zenigata frowned. How _did _Lupin know these things?

"Yeah, yeah; cup and flask," he said. He cradled the phone against his shoulder and opened the bottle, sniffing its contents. "What's in it?"

Zenigata could almost hear Lupin shrug. "My guess is valerian root extract," the thief said thoughtfully, "or some other sopoforic. Whatever it is, it can put a man to sleep in an hour and keep him that way for at least five."

Frowning more deeply, Zenigata capped the bottle and placed it back in the box. "Why would Katsu have a sleeping draught in his room?" he pondered aloud, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the cheap metal desk. "He specifically said he had no sleeping problems."

"He also took a cup of tea to Goemon on Tuesday night," Lupin said. He paused for a moment, allowing the information to sink in.

Zenigata shook his head. "That's a strong accusation," he said at last. "Especially coming from a notorious criminal like yourself." He reached into his breast pocket for his cigarettes and shook one out.

"Hey," Lupin protested. "I do my work honestly -- at least I warn people before I steal something." He snickered. "It's not my fault that no one can catch me in the act."

Zenigata struck a match on the bottom of his shoe and growled into the phone. "If this is your way of gloating, Lupin..." He lit his cigarette and shook his hand to extinguish the match.

"I can help you even more, Pops," Lupin said confidently. "But you gotta promise me that you'll give up chasing me for a couple of days."

Zenigata sat up abruptly, his feet slamming onto the floor. "Impossible!" he roared. "I'll never stop hunting you, Lupin!" He waved his cigarette about, the heavy smoke going every which way.

"Aw, that's too bad," Lupin said. His tone was mockingly sad. "I thought this would have helped to prove that I'm telling the truth when I say that I know where the Tokyo Rose is."

Zenigata's arm stopped in mid-wave. His face fell. "You're lying," he said hesitantly. It was obvious that he didn't believe his own words.

"Sorry, Old Man," Lupin replied. "This time, it's the truth." He chuckled softly. "But if I tell you where to go and what to do, you have to let me off the hook."

Zenigata took another drag from his smoke and grumbled into the phone.

"Come on, Pops -- we both want this guy locked up," Lupin said, turning on the charm. "I'll get Goemon back, and you'll get a shiny gold star on your next report card. Whaddya say?"

"Grhrm," Zenigata mumbled. He stuck his cigarette between his lips and crossed the first two fingers on his free hand. "Okay," he said.

There was a long pause. "If you're lying to me, Pops, I'll know," Lupin warned. "If you mess this up, I'll _really _steal the Rose." He was obviously taking great pleasure in the threat. "Then it won't be a gold star -- it'll be a pink slip."

Zenigata sighed and uncrossed his fingers. "All right," he said. "You have my word." He took one last drag from his cigarette and crushed it out in the overflowing glass ashtray that occupied one corner of his desk. "But this had better be on the level, Lupin."

"Hey, I have as much interest in this as you do, Pops," Lupin said crisply. "Now, write this down: at eleven o'clock tonight, you'll bring Wakahisa to..."


	22. Information is Power

The small white clock on the bedside table was showing half past one. Alexis had slept much later than she had intended, despite the fact that she'd retired early the night before. Rolling out from under the covers, she sat on the edge of the bed and tried to clear the sleep from her eyes. Her room was warm; too warm. What she really wanted was a cool shower.

Fujiko had left Alexis a bathrobe, and Lupin had put extra towels in the bathroom. After a brisk shower, Alexis actually felt like a human being again. She returned to her room, rubbing her hair vigorously with a small towel. Draping it around her neck, she turned to the white bureau and pulled open the middle drawer.

Someone had been going through her things. Alexis swallowed thickly, her heart tightening in her chest. Her sweaters were rumpled, and her Walther had been moved. Slamming the drawer closed, she yanked open the last drawer and inhaled sharply. It seemed her clothes and weapon weren't the only things that had been disturbed.

Alexis knelt on the plush carpet and pulled her black velveteen scarf from where it lay, draped haphazardly over her unsent letters as though to disguise the fact that someone had rifled through them. It was a poor disguise. Alexis reached into the drawer and pulled out the stack of envelopes. The blue ribbon that she'd used to keep them together had been untied, then retied into a simple knot. Slipping the ribbon from around the letters, Alexis flipped through them. The latest one -- the one she'd written to Jigen only a few weeks ago -- was missing.

Too stunned to think clearly, Alexis set the pile on the bed and dressed slowly. There were three people in this house that could have done this, but only one who would have actually _taken _something. Alexis was torn. On the one hand, she was angry. Jigen had been in her room, gone through her possessions, and stolen a letter filled with her private thoughts. On the other hand, could she fault him? He'd been so desperate for answers the previous afternoon; answers Alexis had refused to give him. And the letters she'd written _were _addressed to him. Wasn't there a part of her that was glad that he'd finally had a chance to read them?

Wrapping the letters in the scarf, Alexis sighed deeply. Maybe it was time to admit to herself just what was going on inside her heart and mind. Maybe it was even time to admit it to Jigen. But first, she'd have that letter back. She tucked the bundle back into the dresser and closed the drawer. She would go to the bathroom and dry her hair, then head downstairs and face the music.

The front room was empty, but Alexis heard Lupin's voice floating up from the basement. She followed the sound to find him perched on the arm of one of the overstuffed leather chairs, his jacket tossed aside, sleeves rolled up. His stockinged feet were resting on the seat cushion; he held an ugly, avocado-coloured phone in one hand and a glass of whisky in the other.

"You got all of that?" he was saying. Alexis made her way over to the bar and sat on one of the vinyl stools. There was a pause in Lupin's conversation. "Yep, I'm positive," he continued. Another pause. He looked up at Alexis and smiled, then held up one finger in a 'just a moment' gesture. She nodded slightly. "Yeah, I don't like it any more than you do, Pops," Lupin said with a sigh, "but misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows."

Alexis blinked in surprise as Lupin chuckled. "Yeah, yeah," he said. "See you tomorrow night, okay? Remember our deal." He slid off the brown leather chair and hung up the phone.

"I didn't know you were familiar with Shakespeare," Alexis said. She brushed a lock of straight black hair out of her eyes.

Lupin grinned. "What, the misery thing?" He waved dismissively and took a sip of his drink. "I read some of his plays when I was a kid," he said, joining Alexis at the bar. He pulled a bottle of whisky from the shelf and topped up his drink. "Want one?" he asked, lifting the bottle.

Alexis shook her head. "Have you seen Jigen?" she asked. Her tone was deliberately casual.

Lupin nodded. "Yep. He went up to the temple to talk to Goemon. He said something about a 'fate worse than death'?" The thief took a sip of his drink. "A little overdramatic, if you ask me," he added, smirking.

"I see," Alexis said. She smiled faintly, remembering her earlier conversation with Jigen. "Well, when he gets in," she continued, sliding off her stool, "please tell him that I need to see him."

"Oh?" Lupin idly swirled his drink around in its glass. "Why's that?" he asked, taking another gulp.

Alexis turned away. "He nicked something of mine," she said shortly.

Lupin set his whisky on the bar and looked up. "One of your letters?"

Alexis froze in place. Slowly, she turned to face Lupin, her eyes flashing. "Is there _anyone _in this house who hasn't gone through my things?" she demanded.

"Hey, hey!" Lupin held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm sorry! It's just, well, you know." He grinned weakly as Alexis' expression grew darker. "Information is power, right?" He backed away as she advanced on him, her hands clenched. "I don't like unanswered questions, Bluebird!"

Alexis growled softly. "I said this to Jigen, and I'll say it to you: that's the weakest bloody excuse I've ever heard!" She slammed her fist down on the bar, and Lupin's glass jumped an inch to the left, slopping whisky onto the glossy surface.

Lupin winced. "Look, you were pretty angry when I dropped you and Jigen off at the hotel," he said. His voice was tinged with concern. "I wanted to know why." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was sorta worried."

"So you searched my room?" Alexis shot back.

Lupin smiled weakly. "Well, you weren't about to answer any questions; that much was obvious," he said, grabbing a towel and mopping up the spilled whisky.

Alexis bit back a retort. Instead, she took a deep breath and counted to ten. "That hardly gave you the right," she said at last.

"I know," Lupin said, taking his drink to the brown leather sofa and sitting down. "And I'm really sorry." He beckoned to Alexis, patting the seat beside him. "I just wanted to know why you were so set against staying here, and if there was anything I could do to make it better."

Alexis moved silently to the couch and sat down beside him.

"Is it me?" Lupin asked. He leaned forward and set his glass on the low coffee table next to a star-shaped ceramic ashtray. "Fujiko?" His voice was gentle. "Jigen?"

Alexis stiffened.

"Aah," Lupin said. He stood up and moved to the bar, pulling an ice cube tray from the miniature fridge. He cracked it, plucked out three cubes, and dropped them into a tall glass. "I should have guessed, after reading those letters."

Alexis buried her face in her hands. "When he left me in London, I was furious. For the next year, I tried to convince myself that we were better off apart," she said. There was a tired edge to her voice that had nothing to do with a lack of sleep. "It almost worked." She looked up at Lupin as he returned to the sofa with a clear drink in his hand. There was confusion and frustration behind her eyes. "Then I saw the two of you at the ballet," she said, "and everything came rushing back."

Lupin handed her the gin and tonic. "So, you've been lying to yourself all along." He shook his head and sat down. "You know what they say about a house of cards, right?"

Alexis stared into her drink. "I never meant to feel this way again," she mumbled.

"Is that why you don't want to be here?" Lupin asked, taking a sip of his whisky. He set his glass on the table and pulled a packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket.

Alexis nodded miserably.

Lupin lit up and looked curiously at her. "Why didn't you tell him that?" He handed her the smouldering cigarette.

Alexis accepted the offering. She took a long drag, filling her lungs with heavy smoke. "What makes you think I didn't?" she asked.

Lupin laughed as he lit another cigarette for himself. "Because I asked him last night," he said, grinning. He set his cigarettes and lighter on the table next to his drink. "Besides, Jigen was in a pissy mood when he took off this morning. If you'd talked to him when Fujiko and I were at the club, he'd have been a lot less hung over today." Lupin smirked and reached for his glass. "It's obvious the old grouch isn't getting what he wants."

"He wants answers," Alexis said softly. She sighed. "And you're right: I didn't tell him." She took half her drink in one draught, then rolled the glass between her palms. "I couldn't," she murmured, closing her eyes. "Whatever it was I did or said in London -- whatever the trigger was -- it made him run." Alexis set her drink on the table and shook her head. "I don't want to risk that again."

Lupin reached out and patted Alexis on the shoulder. "That was over a year ago, Bluebird," he said gently. "It's been a long time since he left you in London, and even longer since we first met you in Italy." He smiled knowingly and raised his glass to Alexis, who was staring at him in astonishment. "I think he's had a chance to get used to the idea. To get used to you." Lupin finished his drink and smacked his lips appreciatively. "Wasn't it Comte DeBussy-Rabutin who said, 'Absence is to love what wind is to fire'?" he asked, winking at Alexis.

"You sound like a friggin' fortune cookie," Jigen muttered as he descended the stairs. "Don't you have anything original to say?"

Alexis started and jumped up from the sofa. Her cigarette fell from her fingers, and she scrambled to pick it up before it burned a hole in the carpet. Ducking her head to hide her blush, she ground the cigarette into the ashtray and reached for her gin and tonic.

"Hey, Jigen," Lupin said, casually leaning back in his seat and blowing smoke into the air. "How's Goemon?"

"The same," Jigen grumbled. "Same stoic outlook, same friggin' death wish." He glanced at Alexis, who had made her way across the room to the bar. "Pour me a drink, would you, angel?" he asked.

He sounded tired, and despite her earlier anger, Alexis' heart went out to him. She nodded and poured a double measure of Scotch as Jigen threw himself into one of the leather chairs. When Alexis brought him his drink, he took it gratefully.

"Thanks, doll," he said, taking a generous swallow. Alexis smiled faintly at him and returned to her place on the sofa. "I told him about our little game of entrapment," Jigen continued, turning to Lupin, "but he didn't say much. Just that without an arrest, he'll still slice his own friggin' throat."

"Stomach," Alexis corrected.

Jigen curled his lip. "Either way, he's still dead." His eyes glinted dangerously.

Alexis scowled at him.

Lupin spoke quickly in an attempt to stave off an argument that he knew neither of his friends could win. "We'll have that arrest soon enough," he said confidently. He craned his neck and looked thoughtfully at the simple brass clock that hung above the sofa. "For now though, there's not much we can do except wait for Fujicakes to get back." He shrugged and extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Where _is _Fujiko?" Alexis asked. She, too, glanced behind her. It had just gone two o'clock.

Jigen smirked. "Probably out making some man's life miserable," he said, taking another swallow of Scotch.

"She's shopping, thank you very much," Lupin replied. He smiled dreamily, and Alexis could have sworn she saw his pupils turn into hearts. "A pretty new dress for tonight," Lupin continued. "I told her to get something in red. I like it when she wears red..." His voice trailed off as he lost himself in his personal dreamland.

Jigen rolled his eyes and finished his drink. He set his glass on the table next to Lupin's and stretched out his legs. Alexis rose from her seat and picked up the two empty tumblers.

"Well, we can't sit around drinking all afternoon," she said, taking the glasses over to the small bar sink. "I still have a headache from yesterday's piss-up." Alexis turned on the water, then glanced over her shoulder at Jigen and arched one slender eyebrow. "I'm surprised you didn't poison yourself," she added drily, reaching for a dishcloth. "Though I'm sure it's not for lack of trying."

"I got every friggin' reason in the world, angel," Jigen snapped. He glared at her, then drew his hat down over his eyes and slouched in his chair.

Alexis took a sharp, angry breath and turned away, doing her best to focus her full attention on the task at hand. Her movements were slow and deliberate.

Lupin sighed deeply. "You two really know how to spoil a good fantasy," he muttered, looking pointedly at Jigen. "You don't have to do that, Bluebird," he said, lying back on the sofa and gazing at the ceiling. "There's a reason we have a dishwasher in the kitchen."

Alexis finished rinsing the glasses and dried her hands on a tea towel. "I'll go upstairs and fix us something to eat," she said. Her voice was tight, and her accent was more pronounced. She lay the towel out on the bar to dry and started for the stairs.

From under the brim of his hat, Jigen watched her go. She was behind him, at the foot of the stairs, when he spoke.

"You need any help, angel?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"No, thank you," Alexis said shortly. She climbed the stairs and disappeared from view.

Lupin whistled softly. "I think she's unhappy," he said, propping himself up on his elbows and looking after her.

"Think so?" Jigen snorted. He got up and helped himself to another shot of whisky. "What was your first clue, Sherlock?"

Lupin chuckled softly and lay down again, hands behind his head, his eyes closed.

"You think this is friggin' hilarious, don't you?" Jigen snapped. He downed his drink and poured another as Lupin cracked one eye and looked over at him.

"Kinda, yeah," the thief said, grinning.

Jigen growled and turned his head away.

"Oh, come on, Jigen," Lupin said, closing his eyes again. "You're both adults. You don't need a parent or a teacher to step in and tell you to play nice." He yawned lazily. "Just bite the bullet and talk to her." A smile played around his mouth. "Preferably without drawing your gun."

Jigen sneered. "You're just full of good advice, aren't you, Casanova?" he said, grabbing a second glass and filling it with Scotch. "And when's the last time Fujiko let you touch her?" He capped the bottle and set it down heavily on the bar.

Lupin grinned wickedly. "No need to get personal, my friend," he replied smoothly. "All in good time."

Jigen snorted again. "Yeah. Well, don't tell me about it when it happens, okay? I got enough friggin' nightmares already." He carried both glasses to the coffee table and set them down. "You really think we can pull this off?" he asked, settling into his chair again. He pulled a crumpled cigarette from his breast pocket and lit it.

"What, the entrapment?" Lupin replied, sitting up. He reached for his drink and nodded. "Definitely," he said, holding the Scotch up to the light and admiring the amber glow. "Fujiko's got Katsu-kun wrapped around her little finger." He sipped from his glass and made an appreciative noise.

"And Zenigata?" Jigen demanded. He leaned forward and tapped the ash from his cigarette into the ceramic ashtray.

Lupin took another swallow of whisky. "Oh, don't worry about the Old Man," he said, waving one hand dismissively. "I took care of that. A little blackmail, a little coercion --" Lupin grinned broadly. "Pops is a good guy at heart, but he sure is easy to manipulate."

Jigen snickered. "I almost feel sorry for him," he said, leaning back in his chair and taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Lupin looked surprised. "Huh?"

"I said _almost_," Jigen replied. He smirked at Lupin and drained his glass in one gulp.

Lupin laughed and finished his own drink. He set the tumbler on the table and glanced towards the stairs. "I wonder what she's making," he murmured, almost to himself.

Jigen shrugged. "Whatever it is," he said, "it'll be good. She's a friggin' wizard in the kitchen." He took a final drag from his smoke and butted it in the ashtray. "She could make a four-course meal out of a squashed pear and a handful of rice."

"Can't be worse than Fujiko's cooking," Lupin said wryly. He stood up and stretched. "Let's go check it out."

Alexis wasn't in the kitchen, but there was a plate of croque-monsieur sandwiches on the counter. A frying pan was cooling in the sink.

"Ooh, what's this?" Lupin asked, sniffing the air. He looked at the plate and whistled softly. "Damn," he said. "I didn't even know we had this stuff." He picked up an egg-dipped sandwich, opened it carefully, and peered at the filling. "Is this real meat?" he said, turning to Jigen.

Jigen rolled his eyes. "You'd friggin' starve if we didn't look after you, boss," he said, taking a croque from the plate and biting into it. He smiled faintly to himself as he chewed. Alexis hadn't disappointed. When it came to the kitchen, she never did.

Lupin took a huge bite of his sandwich and blinked in surprise. "Hey, these are pretty good," he said, mumbling around the mouthful of food. He took a second bite, then put the sandwich down. Chewing thoughtfully, he opened the fridge and pulled two bottles of water from the door. He set them on the table and picked up the remains of his croque-monsieur. "Yeah, not bad at all," he said, looking at it for a moment before taking another generous bite.

"Yeah, she's got the touch," Jigen said, reaching for a bottle of water and cracking it open. Taking a long swallow, he glanced out the kitchen window. Water sprayed from his mouth and splashed against the glass. "What the hell?" he spluttered, dropping the bottle into the sink and wiping his beard on his sleeve.

Lupin stood on his toes and looked over Jigen's shoulder. Outside the kitchen window, he could see Alexis standing in the driveway, clutching her black woollen duster tightly around her. The strong autumn breeze whipped her hair from one side to the other as she walked away from the house, towards the road.

"Where the hell is she going?" Jigen demanded. He whirled and headed for the door.

"Let her go, Jigen," Lupin said softly. He continued to munch on his sandwich as he watched the black-clad figure disappear down the drive.

Jigen turned and looked sharply at Lupin. "What?"

Lupin looked back at him and took another bite. "I think she needs some time to herself," he replied. "Let her go." He finished the sandwich and sat down at the table. "At least until these are gone," he said, reaching for another croque. "Then you can go after her and see if she'll make more." He stuffed half the sandwich into his mouth and bit down. "You're right," he mumbled happily. "Whatever faults she might have, she _definitely _makes up for them in the kitchen."


	23. Triptych

_**9.00 pm**_

Fujiko slipped into the passenger seat of the white Toyota Allion and adjusted her short red dress in a futile attempt to cover her knees. Katsu glanced surreptitiously at her as he slid behind the wheel.

"I'm so glad you remembered our date, Katsu-san," Fujiko said with a smile. Her eyes sparkled under the neon light that filtered in through the car windows.

Katsu blushed. "I could not possibly forget, Mine-san," he said. Fujiko noticed that he'd dropped the '-chan' from her name. Sobriety did that sort of thing to a man, it seemed. "It's not every day that the most beautiful woman in Japan is willing to join me for dinner," he added, pulling out into traffic.

He hadn't completely reverted to sober formality, it seemed. Fujiko looked shyly at him and shook her head. "I'm really nothing special," she said modestly. "You are too kind, Katsu-san."

"Not at all," Katsu protested. He checked his shoulder and side mirror. "Do you like Italian food?" he asked.

Fujiko clapped her hands together with simulated glee. "Oh, very much!" she gushed, shifting a little in her seat, causing her skirt to ride up against her legs. "I was in Italy last year, and the food was simply amazing!"

Katsu stared at Fujiko's thighs for a moment before catching himself and returning his attention to the road. "Then I hope you will enjoy this restaurant," he said in a slightly strangled voice.

Fujiko's smile changed from vacant to devious. "I'm sure I will," she said slyly.

They drove off into the Tokyo night.

- - - - -

_**10.00 pm**_

Zenigata pulled up in front of the Wakahisa estate and cut the engine. In order to have the vehicle to himself, he'd had to lie to the officer who usually drove him around Tokyo. Now the inspector felt like a teenager who'd taken his father's car without permission.

Sighing deeply, Zenigata slid out from behind the wheel and trudged up the front walk. Wakahisa himself was standing outside the house. Swinging paper lanterns cast their pale glow over his worried features.

"Good evening, Wakahisa-san," Zenigata said. He sounded as tired as he looked.

"Inspector Zenigata," Wakahisa said, bowing deeply. His worried expression intensified. "You said on the phone this afternoon that you have some new information?"

Zenigata removed his hat and scrunched it in his hands. "I believe so, sir," he said. The reluctance in his voice was noticeable, and he silently berated himself for sounding so unprofessional.

Wakahisa stepped to one side and gestured towards the open door. "Would you care to come in?"

"Actually, sir, it would be better if you could come with me," Zenigata replied. He gripped his hat tightly as Wakahisa's expression changed from concern to curiosity. "I realise that this is highly irregular," the inspector continued, "but I thought it might be best if you could see the ..information.. for yourself." Zenigata smiled weakly at Wakahisa, who blinked in surprise.

"If you feel that's the best course," the older man said, allowing his voice to trail off.

Zenigata nodded slowly, heavily. "Yes, sir," he said, his shoulders sagging slightly. "I really think it is." He sighed again and gestured towards the police cruiser. "If you'll come with me?"

Wakahisa inclined his head, closed the front door, and followed the inspector. With the older man safely buckled into the passenger seat, Zenigata settled in behind the wheel. Taking a deep breath, he started the car and backed down the driveway.

They drove off into the Tokyo night.

- - - - -

_**11.00 pm**_

Jigen backed the brown Agyo into an alley across from the storage company. He twisted the key, and the engine died. Beside him, in the passenger seat, Alexis turned to him.

"Let me just fix this," she said, reaching towards him.

Jigen snorted softly and pulled away. "Yeah, right," he said, smirking at her. "Like I don't know how to adjust a friggin' hat?" He straightened the cap and pulled down the brim, hiding his dark brown eyes.

Alexis bit back a sharp reply and consulted the photograph that she held in her hand -- a photo of a Tokyo police officer. "That's better," she said, holding up the snapshot and comparing it against Jigen's blue-and-white ensemble. "You certainly look the part."

"If there's one thing Lupin does well," Jigen said, reaching back to adjust his Magnum, "it's disguises." His gun nestled quietly in its belt holster, and he brushed his fingers across the grip in an almost superstitious gesture. Nodding with satisfaction, Jigen snatched a half-smoked cigarette from the overflowing ashtray and lit it. Thick blue smoke filled the car.

Alexis folded the picture in half and stuffed it into the pocket of her black woollen duster. "Are you ready?" she asked, glancing at Jigen out of the corner of her eye.

Jigen took another drag from the nearly-spent cigarette, then offered it to Alexis. "Angel, I was born ready," he replied cockily, resting his forearms against the top of the steering wheel and peering out at the empty street.

Alexis smiled wryly to herself, reminded once again why she found the gunman both appealing and exasperating. Though they had not discussed Jigen's theft of her letter, they seemed to have reached an uneasy truce; a truce that Alexis could not help noticing worked more in Jigen's favour than hers.

"He might go back on his word," she said idly, drawing smoke deep into her lungs.

"Who, Pops?" Jigen shook his head as Alexis handed him what was left of the cigarette. "Never happen. If he's anything, he's honest." Jigen took one last drag, then rolled down his window and flicked the butt out into the alley. "Probably because he's a lousy liar."

A white Toyota Allion drove past the alley, then pulled into the storage facility's small car park. Katsu emerged from the vehicle, then moved to the passenger side and opened the door for Fujiko. As the couple walked towards the glass-front doors, Katsu reached into his pocket and withdrew a small brass key.

"That's my cue," Jigen muttered. He waited until Katsu and Fujiko had disappeared into the building, then quietly opened the car door.

Alexis touched his arm. "Jigen..."

Halfway out of the car, he glanced back at her. "Yeah?"

Alexis took a deep breath. "Just... be careful," she finished weakly.

Jigen turned towards her, lifting the brim of his hat with one thumb. He slid his left hand into her hair and pulled her to him, pressing his mouth against hers in a fierce kiss. "I always am, angel," he whispered at last, his breath hot against her cheek. Before Alexis could reply, he had ducked out of the car and was jogging across the street towards the storage facility.

Alexis pressed one hand to the base of her throat and closed her eyes. Her heart beat wildly against her chest, and she took several slow, deep breaths. In spite of her earlier anger, in spite of Jigen's deception, Alexis could not deny the way he made her feel.

Stepping out of the car into the deserted alley, Alexis pulled a cigarette from her shoulder bag and lit it. Inhaling deeply, lost in her own thoughts, she walked down the street and into the Tokyo night.


	24. Denouement

Fujiko's voice was hushed.

"This is wonderful," she murmured. "Probably the greatest moment of my life." For a brief instant, she actually sounded sincere.

Katsu blushed deeply and led her towards the locker. "I'm h- happy to be able to g- give you your heart's desire, Mine-san," he said, his tongue stumbling slightly over the sentiment. His nervousness was apparent.

Fujiko eyed him thoughtfully as he fitted his key into the padlock that secured the locker door. Together, they stepped into the small room, and Katsu waved one hand over his head, looking for the chain that would turn on the overhead light.

There was a soft 'click', and a pool of yellow light rippled on the floor. Standing in the centre of the room, next to the Tokyo Rose, was Wakahisa. Beside him was Inspector Zenigata, looking half-glum, half-furious.

Katsu gasped at the two men. "What --"

Wakahisa stared at his son. "What --"

Fujiko feigned surprise. "What --"

Zenigata stepped forward. "Katsu Wakahisa, I'm afraid I must arrest you for the theft of the Tokyo Rose." He took a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and brandished them.

Katsu blinked. For the space of a heartbeat, no one moved. Suddenly, Katsu turned and bolted for the door, only to be blocked by a bearded man wearing the uniform of a Tokyo Police officer. Fujiko stifled a laugh as Jigen placed a palm firmly against Katsu's chest.

"Stop right there, son," Jigen said roughly.

Katsu looked around wildly. Fujiko plastered a look of horror on her face. Wakahisa looked deeply, fatally embarrassed. Zenigata looked dejected, and a little ill. The inspector came forward with the cuffs and slapped them on Katsu's wrists as two more officers filed in behind Jigen.

"Katsu-san, these officers will take you outside," Zenigata said with a sigh. Turning to Jigen, he added, "Read him his rights."

Jigen smirked slightly and rattled them off. He'd heard them so many times, he hardly paid attention to his own words as he filed out after Katsu and the other officers.

Zenigata turned back to Wakahisa, who had picked up the small pot containing the Tokyo Rose. He was cradling it to his body like a newborn. The inspector took off his hat and worried it in his hands while Fujiko stood by, murmuring comforting words to the older man. At last, Wakahisa looked up at Zenigata in shock and bewilderment.

"My son..." he said. His voice was choked, and there were tears in his eyes.

"I'm very sorry that you had to find out this way, sir," Zenigata mumbled, looking down at his hat. "I just didn't know how else to tell you."

Wakahisa's voice was very soft. "How did you know?"

Zenigata continued to scrunch his hat in his hands. "There were inconsistencies in his statement, I'm afraid," the inspector said. He glanced briefly at Fujiko before looking back at Wakahisa.

The older man looked even more confused. "Inconsistencies?" he echoed.

"Yes, sir." Zenigata nodded. "Katsu-san said that he heard the clock chime midnight on Tuesday, but in fact, the clock had stopped at eleven twenty-three, Monday night." He shuffled his feet. "That might have been just a small mistake on his part, but --" The inspector pulled Katsu's small, wooden box from within his coat. "-- I also found this in his room." He held the box out to Wakahisa, who absently handed the Rose to Fujiko before accepting Zenigata's offering. The older man stared at the inlaid lid as the inspector continued. "Inside it were three items: a monogrammed handkerchief, a bottle of powerful sleeping tincture, and a tea cup."

Wakahisa looked up at Zenigata again, a helpless look in his eyes.

"Your son said that he didn't have any sleeping problems; there was no reason for him to have the tincture," Inspector Zenigata said. He sighed deeply. It was always difficult for him give this kind of news to a man like Wakahisa. "And the cup had only two sets of prints on it: his, and those of Ishikawa Goemon."

Wakahisa turned his attention to the box once more. "Is that all?" he asked quietly.

Zenigata twisted his hat again and glanced from Fujiko to Wakahisa. He shook his head.

"No sir. There's more, but those are the key pieces."

Wakahisa nodded faintly. Gone was the powerful, self-assured man who owned the rarest and most beautiful flower in the world. His shoulders slumped, and his voice was a mere whisper. "How did you find this place?" he asked, looking back at the inspector.

"Aah." Zenigata stifled a cough. "Actually, it was a tip from a .. local contact." Fujiko lifted a hand to her mouth to hide a smile, and Zenigata glared at her briefly before turning back to Wakahisa. "He's going to meet us at the estate." The inspector shook out his wrinkled hat and jammed it onto his head. He reached out and gently took the box from Wakahisa's unresisting grasp. The older man did not protest, and hardly seemed to notice when Fujiko handed him the Tokyo Rose once more. "If you're ready to go, sir?" Zenigata said softly.

Wakahisa nodded weakly. Leaning a little against Fujiko, he followed Inspector Zenigata out of the locker and into the street, where several police officers had gathered. There were three patrol cars lined up in perfect formation, and the little group headed towards the nearest of them. Upon reaching the vehicle, Wakahisa paused for a moment and closed his eyes, the unshed tears finally sliding down his cheeks.

There was a collective gasp, and the old man looked down at the plant in his hands. It was blooming, the red, glossy flower opening to the Tokyo night. The moon touched its silvery light to each leaf and petal; the Rose seemed to radiate an unearthly glow. Fujiko made a soft noise of approval, while Wakahisa simply stared in amazement at the delicate blossom. The five police officers who were milling around craned their necks to see what was going on, and inside one of the cars, Katsu pressed his nose to the window.

Zenigata touched one hand lightly to Wakahisa's elbow. "Let's get that to a safe place, shall we, sir?" he said, opening the car door and ushering the older man into the passenger's seat. With Wakahisa and the flower safely tucked away, the inspector turned to the handful of officers, who immediately snapped to attention.

"I want two of you to take him down to the station and get his statement," Zenigata barked, waving a hand towards the car where Katsu was sulking in the back seat. "I'll join you there later." He moved around to the driver's side of his own car and opened the door. "The rest of you, stay here and secure the scene."

The officers all mumbled and nodded. A pair of them saluted sharply and drove away with Katsu in tow.

Zenigata looked around. That fellow with the beard would have to be reprimanded; the inspector firmly believed that Tokyo police officers should be clean-shaven at all times. He spied the officer in question slouching against a building, half-hidden by shadows. Zenigata opened his mouth to say something, then closed it just as quickly when the 'officer' lifted his hat and winked.

"I should have known," Zenigata growled to himself. He contented himself with a piercing glare before getting behind the wheel of his own car. His frustration was evident in the way he squealed the tires as he tore off down the street.

Jigen stifled a laugh and slipped off into the alley where he'd parked the Agyo. He was leaning against the car, smoking a crumpled cigarette, when Fujiko joined him.

"I almost feel sorry for the kid," Fujiko said, opening the passenger-side door. She settled in and reached for the seat belt.

Jigen wrenched open the driver's door and dumped his lanky frame into the seat. He snorted at Fujiko.

"Are you friggin' kidding me?" he snapped, turning the ignition key a little more forcefully than necessary. "He tried to get Goemon killed!"

Fujiko sighed wistfully and looked out the window. "I know," she said, "but he meant well."

Jigen stared at her for a moment before adding, "And he was rich." His voice could have dried out a river.

"Honestly, Jigen!" Fujiko had the good grace to look shocked. She rolled her eyes. "Am I that shallow?"

"Yeah, actually," Jigen grumbled, as he pulled out of the alley and started down the street. "You are that friggin' shallow." Before Fujiko could protest, he pointed to a woman strolling along the sidewalk. "There she is."

At this hour, there was no traffic; Jigen crossed over into the oncoming lane and rolled down his window. "Hey lady," he said, smirking. "Goin' my way?"

Alexis stopped walking and turned to look at him. "I guess that depends how far you're willing to go," she said with a wry smile. Jigen's eyes lit up, and he grinned.

Now it was Fujiko's turn to interrupt. Before Jigen could reply, she opened her door and pulled the seat forward a little. "C'mon, Lex," she said. "If I have to drive home alone with this grump, I'll go crazy!"

Alexis hurried around the car and squeezed into the back seat. With Jigen grumbling, Fujiko looking innocently out the window, and Alexis trying her best not to laugh, the three of them drove back to Lupin's hideout.


	25. Just Business

At the Wakahisa estate, Zenigata pulled up next to Lupin's bright yellow Roadster and gritted his teeth as he parked the squad car. The inspector opened the passenger-side door and helped Wakahisa out of the vehicle. The older man was still clutching the blooming flower, still staring in amazement at it.

"I can't believe it," Wakahisa murmured as they moved up the walk. Zenigata wasn't sure if he was referring to the flower or his son, but Wakahisa's next words cleared up any confusion. "What should I do?" he asked, looking helplessly at Zenigata.

"Er." The inspector blinked awkwardly. "He's your son, sir. I suppose a lawyer would be in order." Zenigata knocked on the front door. "Unless you wish to drop all charges, of course."

Before Wakahisa could answer, the door opened, and Suki's bright, shining face peered out at them.

"Oh, sir!" she cried, reaching for the flower. Wakahisa smiled weakly at her and handed over the delicate plant. "Welcome home, sir." Suki stood aside as both men stepped into the hallway.

"Thank you, Suki-chan," Wakahisa said softly. He looked drained, and his voice was tired. "I trust all is well?"

Suki nodded. "Yes, sir," she said, putting the Tokyo Rose on the hall table and helping Wakahisa with his coat. "Ishikawa-san arrived a few minutes ago, sir. He's in the garden, along with another gentleman who says he knows the inspector." Suki blinked up at Zenigata, who suddenly found himself the focus of attention.

"That will be my ..uh, contact, sir," the inspector said. His brain worked frantically as he tried to figure out how to explain that his 'contact' was the notorious Lupin the Third. "I did tell him to meet us here."

Wakahisa nodded and picked up the flower once more. "We should not keep them waiting, then," he said, shuffling down the hall towards the inner courtyard. "I must apologise to Ishikawa-san, and I wish to meet this contact of yours."

Zenigata groaned inwardly. He took off his hat and crushed it in one hand as he followed Wakahisa into the garden. Goemon and Lupin were, indeed, here. Lupin was perched on the edge of a massive stone planter, while Goemon was on his knees next to a flowerbed, his eyes closed. Zenigata did a double-take when he saw that the samurai was kneeling on sharp rocks. He peered at Goemon's face, but the only expression there was one of meditative peace.

Lupin nudged Goemon with one foot before hopping off the planter and bowing slightly. Wakahisa coughed politely as Goemon looked up, then prostrated himself before the older man.

"Ishikawa-san," Wakahisa said, moving towards the samurai. "Please; rise." Slowly, Goemon unfolded himself from his kneeling position and stood before Wakahisa, who held up the flower and bowed deeply. "Please forgive me for doubting you, Ishikawa-san."

Goemon blushed slightly and returned the bow. "Not at all, Wakahisa-sama," he murmured, folding his hands together in a gesture of humility. "I was not sufficiently vigilant."

Wakahisa shook his head slightly. "It was because of my foolish son that I made this profound and shameful mistake," he continued. His cheeks, too, were red with embarrassment. "I am terribly sorry."

"There is nothing for which to apologise, Wakahisa-sama," Goemon insisted, executing a formal bow. "I have nothing but the greatest respect for you." He smiled faintly and turned his attention to the Tokyo Rose. "And you do me a great honour by allowing me to see this beautiful flower at its peak."

Zenigata glared at Goemon, but there was no trace of irony or sarcasm in the samurai's voice. Wakahisa looked weakly pleased at the compliment. "It is a remarkable piece of work," he agreed, his voice soft. He seemed reluctant to let go of the plant. Instead, he turned to Lupin, who was smiling pleasantly. "And you, sir. You must be the inspector's contact." Wakahisa bowed again. Over his lowered head, Lupin raised an eyebrow at Zenigata, who looked grumpily embarrassed. "I am in your debt for the information you passed on to Inspector Zenigata. I fear I do not know your name, however."

Lupin bowed politely. "Thank you, sir. I am --" He glanced to one side, catching the inspector's eye. The thief winked. "-- Ookami," he finished.

Zenigata suddenly realised that he'd been holding his breath.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Lupin continued, maintaining his bow. "I only regret that it is under such circumstances."

Wakahisa straightened, and sighed softly. "As do I," he murmured, as Lupin inclined his head one last time. Clutching the Tokyo Rose a little more tightly, Wakahisa turned to the inspector. "Inspector Zenigata, Ookami-san; there must be some way in which I can repay you both for your efforts on my behalf."

Zenigata held up one hand in protest. "Not at all, sir. It's all in a day's work. Isn't that right, Ookami-san?" He shot Lupin a dark look.

The thief happily ignored it. Instead, he smiled at Wakahisa. "I would not dream of rejecting such a generous offer, sir," he said smoothly. Zenigata began to protest, but Lupin continued to speak over him. "However, I will leave the decision to you: whatever you feel my information has been worth, I will gladly accept."

Wakahisa nodded. "You are most eloquent, Ookami-san." Reluctantly, the older man set the plant on the ground at his feet and clapped his hands. Suki must have been just outside the door; it didn't take her long to appear. As Zenigata glared at Lupin, Wakahisa said, "Bring me the jade pot from my desk, Suki-chan." The girl nodded and moved down the hall towards the office as Wakahisa turned once again to Zenigata. "For you, inspector, I will write a letter of commendation. It will arrive at your office tomorrow morning."

Zenigata bowed deeply. "You are too kind, Wakahisa-san," he mumbled, a little discomfited by such praise. As soon as he got his hands on Lupin, why, he'd --

"It is well-deserved, inspector," Wakahisa replied, bowing his head slightly. "I would dream of doing no less." Turning next to Goemon, the old man pulled an envelope from somewhere in his suit. "Ishikawa-san, I pray you take this." Goemon solemnly accepted the offering and bowed in thanks. "The price upon which we negotiated, and half again." Wakahisa sighed deeply. "Please forgive a foolish old man."

Goemon shook his head slightly before straightening. "This incident is already in the distant past, Wakahisa-sama," he murmured in his gentle voice. "My memory grows worse with every passing moment."

Wakahisa bowed deeply to Goemon, his embarrassment still evident. A moment later, Suki arrived and handed an intricately-carved, jade pot to her employer, who nodded. "To you, Ookami-san, I offer this small token of my esteem." Wakahisa turned and presented the jar to Lupin. "I apologise that I have nothing more suitable to give."

Lupin took the beautiful pot -- not much larger than his fist -- and bowed deeply to Wakahisa. "You are most generous, Wakahisa-san," he said. "I will remember your kindness always."

Once more, Wakahisa inclined his head to the three men, and bowed politely. "Thank you, gentlemen. You have been very patient with me, and with my wayward son." He lifted his head and spoke once more to Zenigata. "Inspector, I will contact you in the morning on his behalf." Wakahisa's shoulders slumped a little. "For now, let him remain in your custody, to think on his actions."

Zenigata nodded solemnly. "As you wish, sir." He gave Goemon and Lupin a dangerous look, and jerked his head towards the exit. "Thank you again," the inspector said, leading the other two out of the courtyard.

Wakahisa nodded vaguely and picked up the flowering plant. He stared at it, lost in his own thoughts.

The three men moved through the hall, Goemon lagging behind. He was tired, drained, and hungry. But his composure did not falter -- until the door to Emi's room slid open, and the young girl looked out at him, her expression hopeful.

Goemon paused for a moment, then closed his eyes and inclined his head. When he opened his eyes again, they were the eyes of a stranger. Emi bit her lip to stifle a cry. She dashed past Goemon without a word, and disappeared into the courtyard.

Outside the house, Lupin leaned against the Roadster. "That went well," he said, lighting a cigarette. His jacket pocket bulged around the jade pot.

Goemon emerged from the house and silently took his place in the passenger seat. He settled into the Lotus position, his sword resting in the crook of his elbow, and closed his eyes. His expression remained carefully neutral.

Zenigata glowered at Lupin. "If we didn't have a deal..." he snarled, throwing his hat to the ground.

Lupin grinned wolfishly. "I know, Pops. I know." He moved around to the driver's side of the Roadster and fished the pot from his jacket, tossing it into Goemon's lap. "And if I didn't have somewhere to be, I'd dissolve the bargain. Running away from you is just too much fun to give up." He slipped behind the wheel of the car and started the engine. With one arm resting on the back of the seat, he gave Zenigata a two-fingered salute. "Don't feel too bad about all of this, okay?" he suggested. "It's nothing personal; it's just business." He waved as he pulled out of the driveway, leaving Zenigata in front of the house, jumping up and down on his hat in frustration.


	26. Very Rewarding

"That's it?" Fujiko said shrilly. "You got a jade pot filled with red thread?"

The gang was gathered around a low table in the front room of the safehouse. Moonlight streamed through the bay window, its pale light blending perfectly with the warm glow of the chandelier. The furniture here, unlike the rest of the hideout, was marginally tasteful. Lupin and Fujiko were each sitting in overstuffed chairs covered in dusty blue fabric. Jigen lounged on the similarly-coloured sofa, a smouldering cigarette in one hand. Goemon, of course, sat on the hardwood floor in the Lotus position, Zantetsu-ken tucked into the crook of his elbow. At Fujiko's complaint, he frowned.

"It is saffron," he said, glancing at the small, jade pot, which sat on the table before them. "The most valuable spice in the world."

Fujiko curled one lip. "A spice?" She looked at Lupin, her expression one of disbelief and disgust. "Your reward was a jar full of spice?"

Alexis came in from the kitchen carrying a tray of drinks. "D'you mind if I take a look at that, Lupin?" she asked, setting the tray on the table.

Lupin shrugged. "Go ahead, Bluebird. After all, you're the chef around here." He picked up the pot as Alexis handed out drinks. "Seems awfully heavy for just a jar full of spice, doesn't it?" he mused.

Alexis smiled quietly and pulled a soft-bristled toothbrush from her pocket before settling on the sofa next to Jigen. She took the pot from Lupin and emptied the contents out onto the tray. Everyone watched her movements: Jigen's eyes were narrowed; Goemon looked only vaguely interested; Fujiko was sulking; Lupin was openly curious. As the saffron spilled onto the tray, something else rolled out:

A Fabergé egg.

Lupin blinked. "What the --?"

Fujiko leaned forward. "Oh, my God --"

Jigen scratched his head under his hat and took a long drag from his cigarette. "I'll be damned."

Goemon frowned. "Was that your plan all along?" he said, his expression dark.

Alexis laughed lightly and set the egg aside. "Don't be foolish, Goemon; I'm not psychic. I couldn't know that Wakahisa would give this to Lupin." She started to refill the pot. "No, I just put the egg in the saffron jar so that it would be 'missing' long before I actually stole it." She fitted the lid back onto the pot and set it in front of Lupin. "Classic diversion technique. I'm just lucky that Wakahisa didn't give the jar to Zenigata." She stuck out her tongue and picked up the egg once more.

Lupin grinned. "Well-played, Bluebird," he said with a laugh. "You deserve it, for taking a chance like that." He ran a finger over the intricately-carved pot. "This'll make a nice ornament, at least," he said. "And I hear that saffron is very tasty when it's cooked properly." He winked at Alexis, who brushed some loose threads from the egg and chuckled softly.

"All right," she said agreeably. "Since you're letting me keep this little trinket, I'll make paella Valenciana and Cornish saffron cakes tomorrow for lunch." She smiled at Lupin. "Fair enough?"

Lupin nodded. "Good deal," he said, stretching. "Well, it's been a busy night; I guess I'll turn in." He stood up and plucked a thread of saffron from his shirt, dropping it on the table.

Fujiko sighed. "Me too," she said, as Lupin looked hopefully at her. "There's nothing here worth staying up for." She flounced out of the room. Lupin's lip wobbled as he watched her head up the stairs.

"She's so mean to me," Lupin whined. Alexis grinned, and Jigen snorted into his drink.

Goemon unfolded himself and rose to his feet in one smooth movement. "I, too, will retire." His face was pale and wan, but he held himself erect. "Good night." He bowed slightly to Alexis, and added softly, "Thank you."

Alexis smiled after him as he, too, headed upstairs.

"Wow." Jigen lifted the brim of his hat with one finger. "That was friggin' unexpected."

Lupin nodded. "You can say that again." He looked after Goemon until the samurai had disappeared from view. "He looks like hell. If he doesn't spend the next three days sleeping, I'm going to drug him myself."

Jigen smirked and drew another lungful of smoke. Alexis laughed lightly. "Good night Lupin," she said with a smile. "Sleep well."

"You too, Bluebird." Lupin stretched once more. "'Night, Jigen."

Jigen nodded and leaned back, his arms stretched out over the back of the sofa. Blue smoke curled above his head. "'Night, boss."

Lupin climbed the stairs and vanished into the upper hallway. Alexis picked up the toothbrush and started cleaning tiny bits of saffron from the outside of the egg, working the soft bristles between the enamel and the outer filigree. Jigen tilted his hat back slightly and watched her for a moment before speaking.

"So, that really is the reason you stayed in Japan," he said. His voice was low and surprisingly gentle.

Alexis paused in her work and looked over at him. "Mostly," she replied. "I couldn't steal the egg without causing more trouble for you." At Jigen's raised eyebrow, Alexis smiled weakly. "For all of you." She blushed faintly and returned to her ministrations.

There was a long pause as Jigen watched her work. At last, he dug into his pocket and produced an envelope. He turned it over in his hands, then tossed it onto the table. Alexis flinched. She glanced at the letter, then continued to work the toothbrush over the delicate ornament.

"Why did you take it?" she murmured.

Jigen shrugged and drew on his cigarette. "I wanted --" He stopped, then shook his head and chuckled softly. "I don't friggin' know." He looked thoughtfully at her. "Maybe I wanted a reason to stop running," he said. Alexis drew a slow, deep breath as Jigen lifted his head and looked out the window. "Maybe I wanted to take a little piece of you with me."

Alexis swallowed thickly. "Why give it back?"

Jigen closed his eyes. "'Cause maybe it's too late," he mumbled into his drink. Alexis looked sharply at him as he leaned forward and set his empty glass on the coffee table. "Look, angel, I --"

He was interrupted by the sound of raised voices in the upstairs hall.

"But I waaaaaaant it!" Fujiko whined. "It's so pretty!"

Lupin groaned loudly. "C'mon, Fujicakes! Think of all the work we did just to get Goemon out of this mess!"

"I don't care!" There was a loud noise, as though someone wearing high heels had stamped her foot on the floor. "I want it!"

"But flowers die!" Lupin protested. "How about a nice emerald, instead?"

"No!" Fujiko stamped her foot again, and the whole house seemed to shake. "I want the Tokyo Rose!"

In the front room, Jigen rolled his eyes and looked pointedly at Alexis.

"Whose friggin' idea was it to bring her in on this?" he demanded.

Alexis blushed and busied herself with the Fabergé egg.

"A ruby?" Lupin suggested helplessly. "Sapphire? Diamond?"

Fujiko's voice was so piercing, both Alexis and Jigen had to cover their ears.

"Lup_iiiiiin_!"

* * *

-fin-


End file.
